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v.. 



TWO TRAMPS 


The Works oe 
Amy Le Feuvre 


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Fleming H. Revell Company 

NEW YORK OHIOAOO TORONTO 

LONBON EBINBUROH 


Two Tramps 

' ' \ / ! 

By AMY LE FEUVI(E 

Author of 

“ The Odd One" “ A Puzzling Pair" 
"Probable Sons," etc. 



New York Chicago Toronto 

Fleming H. Revell Company 

London and Edinburgh 



Copyright, 1903, by 
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 


(April) 


.v--^ 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 

Two Copies Received 

MAY 9 'Q03 

Copyright Entry 

sotr-is, 

'COPY B. 


c < 

< t f 

I *■ 

( * 



New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
Chicago : 63 Washington Street 
Toronto : 37 Richmond Street W 
London : 21 Paternoster Square 
Edinburgh : 30 St. Mary Street 




CONTENTS 


I. 

Uncle and Nephew 

9 

II. 

Rollo, the Scribe 

20 

III. 

Fay, the Truant 

33 

IV. 

Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 

48 

V. 

Stranded 

60 

VI. 

Bobby, the Doctor's Son 

73 

VII. 

Sunday's Sermon 

86 

VIII. 

A Happy Old Woman . 

100 

IX. 

Lionel's Golden Gorse 

112 

X. 

Kizzy, the Nurse 

126 

XI. 

Alf, the Gipsy 

140 

XII. 

Miss Greening, the Lodger 

156 

XIII. 

The Highwayman. 

171 

XIV. 

By the Sea .... 

185 

XV. 

Mr. Smith-Tompkins 

200 

XVI. 

Their Book .... 

211 



Two Tramps 


I 

UNCLE AND NEPHEW 

H e knew he was being inspected, and 
with hands in his pockets, and legs 
well apart, he squared his small 
shoulders, and pursed up his lips for a whistle. 
It was a way of his when, — as he expressed it 
— ‘‘ I feel a bit shaky ! ” 

Two people had their eyes upon him; his 
governess and his uncle. He knew Miss Percy 
well enough to be sure that her criticism of him 
would be just and fair; but this tall brown 
bearded man was almost a stranger; and his 
eyes were keen and far seeing. 

Well, what is the matter with him. Miss 
Percy? He is white and thin, but all East 
Indian children seem that.’’ 

‘‘ The doctor says his brain is too active; 
and he must be kept away from books for a 
time.” 

And what do you propose ? ” 

The doctor suggested sending him into the 
country for a month or two. He says an open 
air life is what he needs.” 

‘‘ Doctors are fond of open air. I have been 


9 


lO 


Two Tramps / 


ordered into the country myself for a couple of 
months/' 

‘‘ You have not been well? " 

The usual complaint nowadays. Influ- 
enza; but I've had a long case on, which has 
taken a good bit out of me." 

Rollo looked at his uncle with more interest 
now; though he was being dismissed. He 
pocketed a five-shilling piece with a radiant 
smile; but as he left the room, he remarked 
aloud as if to himself — Should think we could 
go to the country together." 

As the door closed on him, Lionel Derrick 
looked at Miss Percy and laughed. If he 
wasn't so small I would take him; children of 
that age want a woman to look after them." 

Not for a short time," said Miss Percy, 
smiling, ‘‘ and Rollo is a child of infinite re- 
sources." 

What else is he ? " 

‘‘ Very good company." 

‘‘ I believe you want me 'to take him." 

It would be a relief to my mind if you 
could. I cannot give up my other pupils to go 
with him myself, and I know of no one to 
whom I could send him." 

‘‘ Pack up his things, then, in a small hand- 
bag, and send him round to my chambers to- 


Uncle and Nephew 1 1 


morrow morning by eleven o’clock sharp! If 
I find him a trouble, I can but put him into the 
train, and send him back to you.” 

The summary conclusion rather startled 
Miss Percy. Where are you going ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Haven’t an idea; but as far from London 
as I can. I’m thinking of tramping the coun- 
try, and sleeping in the open; that is, if sleep 
will come back to me, for it has forsaken me 
at present.” 

Rollo’s lungs are strong enough, but he 
has had no experience of roughing it. Perhaps 
he does want a woman’s care.” 

‘‘Now I have frightened you, have I not? 
I promise to look after him. And if the life 
doesn’t suit him, I will send him back. Well, 
I must be going. Good afternoon. Mind that 
he is punctual.” 

He swung out of the house in a driving 
shower of sleet and rain; and Miss Percy looked 
after him doubtfully. 

“ I hope I shall be right in letting the boy go. 
It rather takes my breath away! I know his 
mother thinks a good deal of Mr. Derrick. It 
was only in her last letter that she told me 
she wished he would take more notice of Rollo. 
And I have always heard that he is a very good 


12 


Two Tramps 


young man. His influence will be for good. I 
suppose he was only in fun when he spoke of 
tramping the country. After all, it is only for 
a short time ! 

She went in search of her small pupil, and 
found him alone by the schoolroom window, 
flattening his nose against the panes, as he 
watched the retreating figure of his uncle. 
‘‘ Come here, Rollo dear, I want to speak to 
you."’ 

The boy turned round. He was defiant no 
longer. A round short-cropped head of brown 
hair; a resolute little mouth, and two of the 
most lovely eyes that ever a boy possessed were 
his. Girls' eyes " his little school-fellows 
called them, and certainly such deep blue ones, 
with their long curled black lashes, would be 
far more prized by the gentler sex. Unfathom- 
able eyes they were; eyes that noted everything, 
and looked away into the unseen and stayed 
there; until you wondered when they were com- 
ing back. 

They were looking very frank and fearless 
now; and Miss Percy smiled into the little 
questioning face. 

‘‘ Your uncle is going to take you with him, 
Rollo." 

Rollo nodded wisely. '' I thought he might. 


Uncle and Nephew 


^3 


It would be stupid if I was to go by myself, 
and he by himself. When are we going? ’’ 

It seems dreadfully sudden, but he wants 
you to go to-morrow.’’ 

The boy capered in delight. Tell you what. 
Miss Percy! We’ll be two travellers, and go 
through woods, and shoot tigers and get lost 
in the desert! ” 

‘‘Never mind the tigers, but listen to me! 
You are a little boy, and you will have no one 
to look after you, so I want you to remember 
a few things. First, you can dress yourself 
nicely, so be always careful to do it. Show 
your uncle you do not need a nurse. Then 
never forget — wherever you are — your weekly 
letter to your mother. Friday is mail day. If 
it is only three lines, mind you send it. And 
lastly, never forget your prayers, and be a 
good boy.” 

“I’ll remember,” nodded Rollo; “is that 
all?” 

“ And read no books while you are away. 
Those are the doctor’s orders.” 

“ Shall we have wet days in the country ? 
It’s the rain makes me want to read. If I’m 
right inside a book I forget it’s raining.” 

“We will hope you will have fine weather 
then. Now I must go and see to your clothes.” 




Two Tramps 


Miss Percy kept a very small school for East 
Indian children. She lived with her mother in 
one of the quiet streets in Kensington, and had 
had Rollo in her charge since he was three 
years old. His father and mother were still in 
India, and were strangers to him. Lionel Der- 
rick, his mother's brother, was the only rela- 
tive he had in England. He was a barrister, 
and beyond an occasional visit to his small 
nephew had taken but little notice of him. 
Rollo almost felt as if he were going off with 
some brigand in disguise, he looked so tall, 
so stern, so unknowable. 

Debating on his future to the five other small 
boys who shared Miss Percy's care, he said 
after the schoolroom tea was over for that eve- 
ning, And when you fellows are over your 
sums and they won't come right, I shall be 
a pirate king eating rabbits in a gypsy 
camp, and fighting the robbers on a black 
horse." 

This seemed such a delicious medley to his 
audience that they gasped. ‘‘ And what will 
you do with your uncle ? " 

‘‘ Tell you what ! He isn't my uncle. He is 
a Pretender, and he'll take me to a castle in a 
forest, where he'll keep me till he gets a ransom. 
I shall escape and be like Robin Hood. I shall 


Uncle and Nephew 


15 


shoot deer with a bow and arrow, and nobody 
will ever catch me.’’ 

With such wild flights of fancies as these, 
there was not much sleep for Rollo that night. 
Twice he frightened the other boy who shared 
his room by jumping out of bed screaming: 

Where’s my sword ? He’s after me ! Fly 
for your life ! ” And at early dawn he was 
lying awake picturing his holiday with all a 
child’s brightness and vividness of colour- 
ing. 

Miss Percy parted with him with a sigh. He 
was her baby, her pride; and she blamed her- 
self for the edict that had gone forth from the 
doctor’s lips. Had she not pressed the little 
fellow on, from alphabet to primer, and primer 
to ancient history, and taken a keen delight in 
feeding the active brain? Now she was to lose 
him, and another would have the benefit of his 
quaint company. 

She delivered him over to his uncle with 
many a word of council, and Rollo parted with 
her feeling a little like a young bird being ousted 
from its nest. He held himself bravely, and 
when once in the railway carriage with his 
uncle, commenced to prove the assertion of 
his governess, that he was very good com- 
pany. 


i6 


Two Tramps 


He crossed his small legs and produced a 
sticky packet from his jacket pocket. 

Will you have one?’’ he asked confi- 
dentially. ‘‘ It’s toffee — what the fellows gave 
me this morning.” 

This was civilly declined. 

Ah ! p’raps you like bulls’ eyes. I finished 
my last one the day before yesterday. We al- 
ways buy sweets when we go in trains. Miss 
Percy says they’re bad for teeth, but I’ve just 
got my new set, so I’m all right.” 

Uncle and nephew were soon the best of 
friends. It is true, Rollo did most of the talk- 
ing. Lionel Derrick lay back with a tired 
brain listening in lazy wonder to the boyish 
chatter. But as time wore on Rollo’s head 
began to ache, and his eyes became surrounded 
by dark circles. He battled bravely with his 
fatigue; headaches had been his fate for some 
months past, and he was boy enough to be 
ashamed of them. 

His conversation changed its tone. From a 
rollicking carelessness a pensive note was 
struck, and Lionel looked across in bewilder- 
ment, when the small voice said : I suppose 
we shall be able to find a house to sleep in when 
we get to the country? There don’t seem 
many outside just now. The real country is 


Uncle and Nephew 


17 


where there isn’t a house for a hundred miles* 
isn’t it ? P’raps the first night we can sleep at 
the station.” 

‘‘We shall find good beds where we are go- 
ing, my boy,” was the cheery answer. 

“ That will be first-rate. I think, myself, 
I’d like a bed as far away from trains as you 
could get one.” 

“ What’s up? You’re as white as a ghost” 

“ Oh, nothing — I’ve — I’ve just a — well, a 
kind of headache!” 

Poor little Rollo! In another minute, dig- 
nity forgotten, he was snuggled on his uncle’s 
knee, and in a very short time the long lashes 
had closed over the big blue eyes and he was 
fast asleep. Lionel, looking down upon the 
baby face, and feeling for the first time the un- 
conscious weight of the sleeping boy, began to 
question his wisdom in saddling himself with 
such an encumbrance; but when he heard the 
murmured words — “ We’re going to be roving 
robbers, he and I,” he laughed his fears away; 
and thought, at all events with such a compan- 
ion, he would be no prey to ennui. 

Two days after, in the heart of Devonshire, 
uncle and nephew had arranged their tramp. 

A small moor pony had been hired for Rollo, 
and Lionel, with his knapsack on his back, was 


i8 


Two Tramps 


walking by his side, determining to revel in 
the sweet spring air and sunshine, and saunter 
along the green lanes and open moors, ignoring 
time and stopping only when he felt in- 
clihed. 

“ We shall be roving robbers if you will,” he 
said, with a laugh to Rollo; “but Nature is 
so lavish with her gifts that we shall not need 
to steal from her.” 

“It’s what I call stunning!” was Rollo’s 
quick reply. “We shall see different things 
every day, and do just what we like. It’s a 
pity you haven’t a gun.” 

“ I want to be at peace with all, don’t you? ” 

“Well — um — ^yes; unless we have to fight, 
you know. There may be masked robbers when 
it gets dark, and if they have guns we ought 
to have some, too.” 

“ But what could they take from us ? ” 

“ Well — I’ve a three-blade knife with a 
corkscrew; I’m sure they’d bag that if they 
could.” 

“ Keep it dark, then, and when they come 
hide it in your boots. Are robbers to be our 
only fate ? ” 

“ Of course a gun is useful to shoot lots of 
things with,” went on the small boy. “ We 
shall have to get some dinner.” 


Uncle and Nephew 


19 


I suppose we shall. The meat sandwiches 
in my pocket don’t suit your taste? ” 

‘‘ Well, you see, sandwiches are what you 
can get in London. They’re rather — rather dull.” 

‘'Not spicy enough? What do you pro- 
pose? ” 

“ I think most travellers like a deer, a few 
rabbits or some birds.” 

“ I don’t aspire to be a traveller. I’m only 
a tramp.” 

“ Tramps beg.” 

“ Perhaps I shall.” 

“ But ’sposing there’s nobody to beg from? ” 

“ Then I shall fall back on the sandwiches.” 

Not very intellectual conversation, perhaps, 
but good for a tired, overwrought brain. 

More than once Lionel bared his head, and 
opened his mouth to take in as much as he 
could of the fresh, pure, life-giving air. 

And Rollo rode on, his blue eyes roving from 
earth to sky ; his little heart satisfied and quieted 
by the breadth and freedom of his vision. Many 
a halt was made; for those quick eyes saw 
many an object they wished to investigate more 
closely; and Lionel lounged along ready to 
loiter at the smallest pretext. 

The rush of his town life made him appre- 
ciate this delicious slow progress all the more. 


II 


ROLLO, THE SCRIBE 

ELL you what! We’ll write a 
I book!” 

^ Of course it was Rollo who 

spoke. His '' tell you whats ” always heralded 
some novel proposition; and Lionel in his dull 
moments hailed them with delight. 

It was eleven o’clock in the morning. A time 
when the world’s labourers were in the midst 
of their toil. A time when one can fully ap- 
preciate the luxury of idleness. 

It was a sunshiny morning in the beginning 
of June. Lounging against a green bank, with 
a foreground of sweet-scented gorse and moor- 
land, were our two travellers. The pony was 
tied up near. Lionel, his hat on his eyes, was 
lying full length on the short, springy turf; 
Rollo was sitting, his hands clasped round his 
knees, his blue eyes gazing at the golden bloom. 
They had been very silent listening to a lark 
soaring up in front of them. There was almost 
a Sabbath stillness around them; no butterflies 
or bees fluttered above the bloom; in the dis- 
tance the bleating of the lambs in the meadows 
was the only sound that met their ears. And 


20 


Rollo, the Scribe 


21 


then Rollo broke the silence by his speech. 
Lionel rolled over with a grunt. '‘Write a 
book! Why take us back to such common- 
places, that smatter of Fleet Street and the 
Strand? Do you know why people write 
books?’’ 

" Because they want to.” 

" Because they want to air their opinions 
that they can get no friend to listen to.” 

With knitted brow Rollo thought over this 
view of the subject. " But my book would tell 
people things that they would like to know.” 

" That sounds hopeful. Give me a chapter 
of it.” 

Rollo was silent for a minute, then he said 
slowly, " My first chapter would be ' Golden 
Gorse.’ ” 

"Well done! A taking title. Why not 
' Glorious Golden Gorse ’ ? ” 

" I think ' Good Golden Gorse.’ ” 

"Why?” 

Then the boy’s eyes kindled. " It’s so sweet, 
so soft, so sunshiny; and it comes out of dry, 
dead prickles. I could tell about it being cov- 
ered up and shut in by horrid spikes. It’s two 
kinds of people on the same bush; it’s a golden 
princess shut up, so that no one shall get to 
it.” 


22 


Two Tramps 


Lionel looked astonished: then he lay and 
gazed at the gorse in front of them. We 
will learn a lesson from it/’ he said dreamily; 
‘‘ sweetness thriving amongst bitters. A nar- 
rowed, starved, confined life, blossoming out 
and turning its surroundings into fragrant 
beauty. You’ve given me a thought, Rollo. 
Yes, I think we must write a book together.” 

And,” pursued the boy, there’s a lot more, 
only I can’t tell it. It makes you wish to smell 
it, to kiss it, and yet 3^ou can’t.” 

Not without hurt to yourself. Nothing is 
worth anything, without toil and trouble. Our 
book will be a philosophical treatise.” 

I wish you would talk easier.” 

Rollo’s rebuke was crushing. Then relapsing 
from the dreamer into a very practical boy, he 
started to his feet. ‘‘ I’m going to see if there 
are any frogs in that ditch over there. I love 
frogs; don’t you?” 

But Lionel could not turn from golden gorse 
to frogs so easily. He lay there in the sunshine, 
and thought of a blossom he knew dwelling in 
difficult surroundings ; a blossom that he would 
willingly have transplanted to his own garden, 
and enjoyed the fragrance of its life. Yet the 
bloom would not leave the prickles, and as yet 
would not allow the young man to approach it. 


Rollo, the Scribe 


23 


From philosophy, he passed to day dreams; 
from day dreams to sleep; and when Rollo 
roused him at length, the sun was at its full 
height, and the boy insisted that he was hungry. 

‘‘ Is it lunch time ? Not yet. I think we will 
make our way over the moor to that farmhouse. 
Perhaps they can give us some eggs and bacon. 
Wedl have a try.’’ 

So Rollo was mounted on his pony, and away 
they went, cracking the dead heather underfoot, 
and startling many a rabbit from its lair. They 
reached the farmhouse within half-an-hour, but 
there seemed no signs of life about it. Leaving 
Rollo on his pony, Lionel stepped boldly in, 
and at length found an old woman at her wash- 
tub in an out-house. He asked her if she could 
supply them with any food. 

‘‘ Be ’ee on thy cycles ? ” was her sharp in- 
quiry. 

‘‘No, I am on foot, and my small nephew on 
his pony.” 

“ Ah ! well, ’tis better style. They cyclists 
is not the gentry, and they holdeth their heads 
so cocketty, and sniffeth at the country; for 
’tis not good enough to plase ’em. And their 
pockets be brave an’ empty. A remembers 
back along, a party, and they cometh in arid 
maketh free with a pasty, and drinketh four 


24 


Two Tramps 


glasses o’ fresh milk, an’ when they cometh to 
go, they coodn’t find fippence betwixt ’em ! Es, 
sir. A’ll fetch ’ee a plate o’ ham, and the little 
lad can tie his pony to the gate, for the men be 
all out to the fields, and a be by me lone self, 
and a be eighty year old, sir, cometh Michael- 
mas, and a be brave and hearty, thank the 
Lord.” 

She showed them into a parlour, which 
seemed delightful in its coolness after the mid- 
day sun. It was a long low room with a round 
table; black horsehair sofa and chairs; and a 
quaint old cupboard with glass doors fitted 
with bits of china. Lionel inspected this latter 
piece of furniture with some interest. It was 
a curious medley of ancient and modern ware; 
from penny china dolls, and painted dogs, to 
some really quaint old junket bowls. Then 
there was a bookcase towards which Rollo 
gravitated with a keen look in his blue eyes, 
and when he found an ancient mythology with 
coarse wood engravings, he sat down upon the 
floor with a happy sigh of content. Lionel left 
the room soon to look to the pony’s wants, and 
give him a feed of corn. When he returned, 
he found a white cloth laid, and ample sup- 
plies for two hungry people; but Rollo was 
standing in a corner, his back against the wall; 


Rollo, the Scribe 


25 


his hands behind him, and his eyes looking 
away into space. 

What’s up ? ” the uncle asked. 

Rollo lowered his gaze, but he did not move 
from his position. ‘‘ I’m trying to be a man 
of honour,” he said gravely. 

‘‘ Be a boy first before you ape the man,” 
was the amused remark. ‘‘ What is the tempta- 
tion? ” 

'' I want to read about the pictures, and Miss 
Percy told me not to.” 

Oh I see; well the temptation has gone, for 
the opportunity has come for you to feed your 
body, and not your mind.” 

And Rollo proved that he could do this with 
very little difficulty. 

During lunch, black clouds rolled up and 
soon obscured all the sunshine, and before they 
could start again on their travels, down came a 
deluge of rain. 

Lionel was in no ways disconcerted; he rolled 
himself round on the horsehair couch, and was 
soon fast asleep. Rollo looked at him in aston- 
ishment; then his glance fell lovingly on the 
old book-case, and for a minute he wavered. 
But honour won the day, and creeping softly 
out of the room, the boy made his way to the 
big stone-flagged kitchen. The old woman was 


26 


Two Tramps 


there making bread. The table was freshly 
scoured, the fire bright and clear, and the copper 
pans glistened and reflected like mirrors. Rollo 
looked up to the wooden beams from which 
home cured hams were suspended. Everything 
was new, and consequently charming to him. 

He advanced to the table, and leaning with 
folded arms upon it commenced to unburden 
his mind. “What are you making? May I 
watch you ? ” 

“ Bless ’ee, little master ’tis bread, and a 
proper batch it be this day! Last Toosday 
me back were turned, but just one minute, and 
if that old sow didn’t cut in and with his ugly 
snout, make short work o’ me dough just a 
rizzin’ bravely afore the fire.” 

Rollo looked thoughtful, then he said, “ Were 
you ever a tramp on the road ? ” 

“ Likely no ! ” was the somewhat indignant 
reply. “ A be come o’ respectable folk, an 
could a bin married four time over, had I had a 
mind to ! ” 

“ I like being a tramp. You never know 
what you’re coming to. This morning I didn’t 
know you were in the world at all.” 

This fact seemed to startle the old woman. 
She gazed at him wonderingly, then shook her 
head in doubt. 


R.ollo, the Scribe 


27 


Rollo pursued his own line of thought dream- 
ily, '' and I suppose there are lots of people, 
that I never shall know about till I see them in 
Heaven, but I sha’n't forget you, for you look 
so very old/’ 

‘‘A baint near so old as our minister, an’ 
he be ten year younger than a ! ” 

This paradox did not puzzle Rollo. He 
changed the subject. 

Stretching out his hand, he took up a paring 
of dough and began to mould it absently in 
his fingers. 

> '' Are you all very old here? ” he asked. I 
•s’pose there aren’t any boys like me about ? ” 
Na, an’ a wouldn’t give much to have ’em 
here. They be too clatterous.” 

Rollo sank his voice to a confidential whis- 
per. ‘H’m on the look out for some. I 
wouldn’t say so to my uncle for he’s a very 
good chap, but I ache when I’m talking grown 
up too long. I think I don’t mind the talking; 
but I should like to roll him over and pummel 
him a bit, just lark round you know ! My legs 
want a bit of a scrimmage. Don’t tell him I 
said so. I s’pose you haven’t a dog, have 
you ? ” 

Ay that us have. Ghock an’ Daisy, an’ 
they be brave uns fur drivin’ sheep an’ the 


28 


Two Tramps 


like. They be out in the fields with they 
master.’’ 

'' I wish we had a dog,” said Rollo a little 
wistfully, they’re so awfully jolly to teach 
tricks. One of our fellows at school could 
make Miss Percy’s terrier stand on his head. 
Have you finished your bread? When will it 
be done? I say, could I walk over the house? 
My uncle is fast asleep, and I don’t know what 
to do.” 

The old woman looked at the little questioner 
then shook her head doubtfully. 

Na, the rooms ain’t fur boys, ’ee must bide 
still an’ not worry. Can’t ’ee read or write? ” 
I should think I could just! ” 

Well, noo a’m thinkin’ maybe ’ee could 
write a letter to my John, fur a can niver get 
the lads to give a minute to ’im. See here, a’ll 
get a bit o’ paper, and ’ee’ll sit down an’ write 
fur I, like a little gen’leman.” 

Rollo responded with alacrity to this sug- 
gestion, and soon with his pen poised between 
his fingers in the orthodox fashion, he sat 
awaiting the old lady’s dictation. 

She fussed about for a few minutes, putting 
the kettles on the fire for tea, washing her 
hands, and inspecting her dough which was 
now before the fire ; but finally she came 


Rollo, the Scribe 


29 


and stood over the little scribe with knitted 
brows. 

‘‘My dear John/’ wrote Rollo; then he 
asked, “who is John? Is he a boy?” 

“ Ay, the best o’ me boys, an’ lies to hospital 
wi’ a broken leg, twas his boss threw him when 
he were cornin’ home from market on a Satur- 
day. A fears he were a bit fuddled wi’ the 
drink. Tell ’im ’a hopes ’im is quite well as it 
leaves me at present.” 

This was written. Then there was a long 
pause. “ I should tell him it’s raining,” sug- 
gested Rollo looking out of the window for in- 
spiration. 

“Ay, an’ Mark Pedley’s father have been 
caught out poachin’ an’ have bin’ took off to 
gaol.” 

“ Oh, do tell me about that,” said Rollo 
dropping his pen in his excitement. “ I would 
like to be a poacher. They creep through long 
grass in the woods, and catch rabbits and birds 
in the night, don’t they ? ” 

“ The Pedleys be a bad lot,” was the reply. 
“ Mark smashed my Johnnie’s nose when ’im 
were at school. A minds it well, write it in 
brave and plain, an’ tell ’im that Jane Trevance 
have a jilted of Mark.” 

With a little sigh Rollo turned to business, 


30 


Two Tramps 


then came another pause, and the old woman 
shook her head in desperation. “ Ay dearie 
me^ a letter be hard work. Tell ’im to come 
home quick.’’ 

And shall I say I’m writing the letter and 
tell him who I am ? ” 

Ay, ’ee be a clever little lad, fill up the 
paper, an’ a’ll make the end to ’im.” 

Rollo sucked the handle of his pen, thought 
for a moment, and then wrote steadily on, spell- 
ing audibly the words as he went. 

The old woman added her last words, and 
then he read it out in triumph to her. 

'' My dear John, 

She says I hopes he is quite well as it leaves 
me at present. It is raining fast. Mark Ped- 
ley’s father have been caught out poaching and 
have been took off to gaol. The Pedleys be a 
bad lot. Mark smashed my Johnnie’s nose 
when he were at school. I reminds it well. 
Jane Trevance have jilted Mark. Come home 
quick. My name is Rollo and I am writing it 
for her because I have nothing else to do, and 
because she asked me. I am a tramp and so is 
my uncle. He is asleep on a sofa. I like it 
very much, and I never mean to go back to 
school any more. I must not read books. The 


Rollo, the Scribe 


31 


doctor and Miss Percy says so. God bless you, 
my son. I hope you will come home again soon 
with my best love, 

Your loving Mother.’’ 

Ay, that will do first rate, though it do 
sound rayther mixed,” said the old woman. 

‘'You haven’t told your boy to be good like 
my mother in India does me,” said Rollo 
thoughtfully. “ Shall I add it in a postscript ? ” 

“Ay if ’tis pleasin’ to ’ee. My John be a 
rare scholar.” 

So in his round childish hand Rollo added the 
following : “ Be a good boy, and never forget 
your prayers. Mother always prays that her 
little son may grow up a true and earnest Chris- 
tian man.” 

“ There ! ” said Rollo, “ That is what mother 
put in her last letter to me. I’ve copied it word 
for word, and now shall I put it in the envel- 
ope? ” 

An envelope was produced, and after a good 
deal of search, a stamp; and then hearing 
Lionel call for him, Rollo trotted out of the 
kitchen feeling he had done a good afternoon’s 
work. 

He found his uncle poring over a map and 
looking a little bit impatient. 


3^ 


Two Tramps 


Where have you been? Not in mischief 
I hope? We must be off at once, for it is 
clearing, and we are a good many miles from 
the village I want to reach to-night/’ 

Rollo was only too eager to start again. The 
old woman came out to see them off, and en- 
trusted the precious letter to Rollo to post. She 
stooped and kissed him, which brought the 
blood rushing to his cheeks. 

Bless your little heart, a be much obliged 
to ’ee for writin’ of ’im, an’ when ’ee cometh 
this way agen, a’ll be varry glad to see ’ee. 
Thank ’ee, master,” this to Lionel, who had 
pressed something into her hand. 

God bless ’ee both, an’ send ’ee along the 
way safe, you’m be bravely welcome ! ” 

With this parting benediction the travellers 
went their way. 


Ill 


FAY, THE TRUANT 

^ ^ T T 7 HAT did you give her, uncle ? ’’ 

\ /\ / '' A shilling, and a little 

V y hookr 

What was the book called? Your pockets 
seem full of books/' 

Lionel looked down on the boy with a 
strange smile, then he said simply, 

‘‘ Fm more backward with my tongue than 
you are. I prefer to use other people's words 
to my own. It was a message I wanted her to 
have, and I did not know how to give it my- 
self." 

Who sent her a message ? Did you know 
we were coming to see her ? " 

I wanted to tell her that God loved her." 

There was silence. This uncle seemed a 
strange man to Rollo, but he could not 
refrain from saying, “ Doesn’t everybody know 
that?" 

They don’t remember it." 

'' And the little book told her about it." 

Yes." 

Rollo rode on, with his eyes fixed on the 


33 


34 


Two Tramps 


soft grey clouds which were here and there dis- 
closing the deep blue behind them. 

Don’t you wish we were on the tramp to 
heaven?” he asked dreamily. 

It was Lionel’s turn to be surprised now, but 
he was learning to take his small nephew’s 
strange speeches very quietly. Well, I trust 
we are not tramping away from it,” he said 
gravely. 

They were again silent. On the high road, 
now, with the young green in the tall hedges 
smelling fresh and fair after the recent rain; 
birds busy chattering their love one to the 
other as the}^ built their nests in the many trees 
and bushes that edged the road, and the faint 
lowing of cattle in the fields telling that milk- 
ing time was drawing near. Gleams of sun- 
shine pierced the thin grey clouds, and in the 
distance the shadows chased each other over 
the blue hills. Presently they met a flock of 
sheep, then a carrier with a couple of laughing 
girls on the front seat of his cart, and then, 
a little farther on, they were stopped by an 
anxious-faced clergyman. He looked dusty 
and heated, and seemed to have come some dis- 
tance on foot. 

‘^Excuse me,” he said courteously; ^‘but 
have you passed a little girl on the road ? My 


Fay, the Truant 


35 


small grandchild has run away, and I am look- 
ing for her/’ 

Rollo was interested at once ; and the clergy- 
man explained with an anxious smile that the 
little truant had been absent since seven o’clock 
that morning. 

She has a trick of decamping directly she 
is dressed, and I don’t know how to break her 
of it. Her mother sent her to me whilst she 
is on the Continent with her husband; and I 
suppose I don’t know enough of children to 
have the charge of them. My old housekeeper 
can’t manage her. This is the third time it has 
happened. Once she was brought back by a 
farmer eight miles off. I am afraid of what 
may happen to her.” 

He seemed relieved to pour out his woes, 
and Lionel condoled with him, offering to join 
him in his search. 

They all turned down a bye-lane bordered 
by great overhanging banks of fern and yellow 
broom. 

‘‘We are runaways, too,” said Lionel with 
a smile. “ It is a pleasant experience; so you 
must not be hard on your little grandchild.” 

The clergyman looked at him keenly. “ In 
search of health, I should surmise,” he said 
drily. 


36 


Two Tramps 


I hope it won’t be long before that state- 
ment will be an impossible one,” Lionel re- 
plied with a short laugh. ‘‘Yes; we have run 
away from town, and work, and our fellow 
creatures; and are drifting along from day to 
day, living only in the present, and ignoring 
the past and future.” 

“ A dangerous experience to those in full 
health, but perhaps in your case it may effect a 
cure.” 

“ It is to be hoped so.” 

“ And yet,” said the clergyman, thought- 
fully; “I don’t know that we human beings, 
the products of the Eternal God, ought ever to 
be in the position you describe. Such a life 
is only for animals of the lower order of cre- 
ation.” 

“ I spoke carelessly,” said Lionel, gravely. 
“ The unseen things are real to both of 
us.” 

Here Rollo broke in, for the talk was above 
his head — “ We are tramps, not runaways,” 
he said, turning his big eyes upon their new 
acquaintance. 

“ Ah, well,” said the clergyman, with a smil- 
ing nod; “ they are very much the same thing. 
I have seen many tramps in my time. I divide 
them into two classes : those who tramp because 


Fay, the Truant 


37 


they like it, those who tramp because they are 
obliged. And the first class is the most numer- 
ous. I generally find they have run away from 
the right, from duty, principle, and honour, 
from honest labour, and civilisation.” 

And the second class ? ” 

‘‘ I always help them. I probe them well 
first; but I have had much practise in dealing 
with them, and I am rarely deceived.” 

He talked away, but his eyes were as busy 
as his tongue. 

Presently, with the agility of a schoolboy, he 
mounted the bank, and then with an excited 
wave of his hand he beckoned to Lionel to join 
him. 

Do you not see something white moving 
by that stream under the willows ? There, look ! 
What is it?” 

‘‘ A goose, I should think,” said Lionel. 

No geese would be wandering in these 
parts. Here, help me over, I believe it is the 
truant ! ” 

‘‘ Let me go for you.” 

No, no; I am as active as a sailor. Wait 
a few minutes, and I will join you again.” 

Lionel gazed at him in wonder, as over 
brambles, hawthorn, and wire, he bounded. 
Then, once in the green meadow, he set off at 


38 


Two Tramps 


a quick run towards the distant stream. Lionel 
descended the bank and joined his little nephew 
in the road. 

Rollo’s eyes were glowing. I wish I could 
get off my pony, and run away to look for her. 
It’s like the books say, when you travel, you 
always find a girl somewhere. And then she 
has to be helped along, because she is a girl.” 

You have read too much,” said Lionel with 
a smile. 

I wonder why she runs away,” said Rollo 
meditatively, “ p’raps the housekeeper beats 
her.” 

A shout was heard, and in a very short time 
the old clergyman appeared, holding by the 
hand a little white-frocked maiden, in a blue 
cotton sunbonnet. 

'' There,” he said, triumphantly, as he planted 
her down in the road, and looked at her with 
a doubtful smile, she is found again, and I 
hope this will be the last experience of the 
sort.” 

She stood there, with rosy cheeks and golden 
curls; a little fairy-like creature; one chubby 
finger was in her mouth, the other hand held 
her shoes and stockings; there was mischief and 
defiance in her eyes, though she looked very 
near tears. 


39 


Fay, the Truant 


‘‘Now, what will you do?” she demanded 
of her grandfather. 

He shook his head in a helpless way, and 
seemed to have lost all his brisk activity. 

“ I can’t carry you home,” he said gravely, 
“ and you will be very, very tired before we get 
there.” 

The small finger was taken out of her mouth, 
and pointed at Rollo instantly. 

“ ril ride on that boy’s pony ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Rollo in delight as he jumped 
down at once, and then I can walk. I’m tired 
of riding.” 

“ Are you bound for our moorland village ? ” 
asked the clergyman. 

“ We are making our way to Clugford,” said 
Lionel. 

“ Ah ! that is my parish. If you could give 
her a lift for a part of the way, it would be a 
charity.” 

“ But I must put my shoes and stockings on,” 
pursued the little damsel, sitting down by the 
roadside, and putting her words into action, 
with such speed, that Rollo gazed at her in 
amazement. 

Once on the pony, her defiance melted away ; 
and her tiny hands alternately clutched the 
reins and patted the pony’s silky mane. Rollo, 


40 


Two Tramps 


with his head erect, marched by her side, hold- 
ing the bridle. Their elders, behind them, fell 
into earnest conversation; the children chatted 
in their own irrelevant fashion. 

I was in the water when Gran found me. 
I was kicking frogs along 

Was it nice? 

Yeth. I picked flowers for Gran, and then 
a nasty sheeps eat them all up.” 

And what else did you do ? ” 

I don’t know.” 

What’s your name? Mine is Rollo.” 

I’m Fay, that’s what my mummie calls 
me. I’m a fairy. I run away when the fairies 
call. Of coursth I do, and then we dance and 
sing, and ring the pretty blue-bells to make 
muthic, and I was going away in the water 
till I met a little boat, and then I was going to 
cross the big sea and find mummie, and then we 
would go to the bottom of the sea and play 
with fishes.” 

''And did the fairies call you away this 
morning?” asked Rollo, following the lisping 
maiden’s words with breathless eagerness. 

" Yeth, but I want my dinner! ” 

The poor little soul came down from her 
fancies to plain fact. She had eaten nothing 
all day beyond the slice of bread and butter 


Fay, the Truant 


41 


given to her after being dressed. Rollo watched 
the small lips quiver, and the saucy eyes get 
misty with coming tears; then he hastily ran- 
sacked his pockets. 

‘‘ Here’s a biscuit I didn’t eat, and a bull’s 
eye.” 

Smiles broke out at once. Make the pony 
gallop. I’m tired of going slowly.” 

Dandy was touched with the whip; he broke 
into a trot, but soon relapsed into his usual 
walk. He was not going to hurry himself for 
the caprice of a small stranger. Was he not 
in the land of leisure? Did any native around 
know the meaning of haste? They came down 
a steep hill soon; so steep, that Lionel took 
Rollo’s place, and guided the pony carefully. 
As they neared the bottom, the clergyman, the 
Rev. Antony West by name, pointed to a dis- 
tant building in a nook by the river side. 

That’s an old place you ought to see. The 
ruins of an old monastery. A widow lady lives 
there, and the ruins are her great grief. She 
covers them up with creepers and flowers of 
all sorts, and refuses to admit any tourists. Her 
own dwelling is the pink of neatness; I am the 
only privileged person who is allowed free en- 
trance. I will take you there to-morrow, if you 
like. I should much like to offer you both hos- 


42 


Two Tramps 


pitality, but my housekeeper is so upset by this 
little one's disappearance that household mat- 
ters have come to a standstill. I dare not as- 
sure you a hearty welcome from her." 

Which inn do you recommend ? " Lionel 
asked a little later, as they were climbing up 
as steep a hill as the one they came down. 

The old original one, the Three Feathers. 
It is exactly opposite my church, and is the 
oldest and most picturesque building in the 
place. You ask to see the visitors' book to- 
night. They will bring you in two ancient 
ledgers, one of which bears signatures in 1600." 

At the top of the hill they came to the vil- 
lage. It was now a lovely evening ; the thatched 
cottages, the old elms in their first spring 
beauty, the moor in the distance, all delighted 
our travellers. Perhaps Rollo was too taken 
up with his little playmate to be as quickly ob- 
servant as usual ; but when the inn was reached, 
and a halt was made, he turned inquiringly to 
his uncle. Are we going to have something 
to eat now ? " 

Yes, I hope so," said Lionel, gazing at the 
grey stone building, thatched roof, and case- 
ment windows with deep interest. Mr. West 
drew his attention to the old stone archway 
which led through into the yard. 


Fay, the Truant 


43 


"" A man was shot here by a Roundhead in 
the Civil Wars/' said Mr. West^ pointing to a 
niche in the wall with the indentation of the 
bullet plainly discernible. 

Fay had dismounted and tugged her grand- 
father by the hand. ‘‘ Fm so hungry, Gran." 

"‘Ah, you deserve to go to bed supperless," 
was the quick reply; “but you know I don't 
train you properly. Come along, you shall see 
your little friend to-morrow." 

They went, and Lionel and his nephew were 
shown into an empty cofifee-room which looked 
rather dreary and forlorn. However, when 
food was brought to them, and a fire lighted by 
Lionel's request, they felt quite snug and com- 
fortable. They had it to themselves, and Rollo 
was full of his little companion. 

“ She said she was a fairy, and I believe she 
is," he said to his uncle, with a wise nod of his 
head. “ I'd like her to come with us." 

“That is out of the question," said Lionel 
with a tired yawn. 

“Tell you what!" suggested Rollo with 
bright eyes, “ the next chapter of our book will 
be about runaways." 

“ How will you work it out? If you wait till 
we have finished our meal I will make a few 
notes." 


44 


Two Tramps 


Lionel spoke in lazy tones. Yet when they 
had risen from the table, he took an armchair 
by the fire, and proceeded to draw Rollo out 
for his amusement. The boy lay on the rug, 
and commenced thoughtfully. 

“ We’ll write about different runaways, 
tramps like us, and boys and girls from school, 
and horses, and dogs, and they all meet in the 
country somewhere, and have a jolly time.” 

“ And never come to grief ? I think most 
runaways come to a bad end.” 

” Why do they ? Why do people think it 
wicked to go off by yourself away from every- 
body?” 

Lionel did not answer. Rollo gazed into the 
fire and wrinkled his forehead in thought. At 
last he glanced up, and never did his blue eyes 
have a more seraphic look than now. “ If I 
lived alone, I would never do a sin ! ” 

This astounding statement made Lionel open 
his eyes. 

“ You little Pharisee! Do I make you ‘ do 
sins ’ as you express it ? ” 

“ When I’m naughty,” Rollo explained 
slowly, “ it’s generally because I do something 
I’ve been told not to; people always tell boys 
not to do so many things that they can’t re- 
member. If I had no one to say things to me I 


Fay, the Truant 


45 


should get on first rate. And there would be no 
one to fight or quarrel with ! ” 

“ You would like to be a hermit, a recluse; 
who takes all the good things in life from 
God and his fellow men, and never gives any- 
thing in return. You would be like a stagnant 
pool then, instead of a fresh running stream. 
I should wish you to have a nobler idea of life 
than that.” 

“ Oh, when I grew up I should be different. 
I think if boys were let alone, like grown up 
people, they’d be much gooder ! ” 

“ And supposing you don’t live to grow up ? 
Do you think a boy only ought to live to please 
himself?” 

Rollo looked serious. “ Shall I tell you how 
I’d like to live ? ” 

“ By all means.” 

“ I should do lessons always on rainy days. 
Every rainy day in the year I should do lessons 
hard. And every fine day I should get out of 
doors. I should never live in London, but I 
would have a horse in the country with a foot- 
ball and cricket-field, and lots of boys to play 
with. And on Sunday I would do all the good, 
and think all the good that I could. I would 
like a governess or mother for when I had a 
headache or was ill, and I would like a man like 


46 


Two Tramps 


you when I wanted to travel or when I wanted 
to talk sense. And I think I would grow up a 
pretty good man, don’t you ? ” 

A boy who has things his own way when 
he is young, grows up a selfish, disagreeable 
man, and a dead failure in life,” said Lionel 
gravely. 

I wouldn’t like to be that,” Rollo re- 
sponded; clasping his hands behind his head 
and gazing into the fire again, but I don’t 
want to wait to have things my own way till 
I grow up.” 

‘‘You won’t get it then. None of us ever 
do.” 

“ The runaways do,” said Rollo coming back 
with a child’s pertinacity to the subject in 
hand. 

“ I think we’ll write a chapter on ‘ Runa- 
ways,’ said Lionel with his dry little smile. 
“We will put on the title page something of 
this sort — 


“ I’ve run away 
To get my way, 

I’ve lost my way to get it 
I’ve found the way 
To get my way 
Is not so easy, is it? ” 


Fay, the Truant 


47 


“ I think I’ll go to bed,” said Rollo with a 
puzzled face, “ that is rather difficult to under- 
stand.” 



I 


i 




IV 


MRS. DUNCAN^ THE GARDENER 

T he next morning, our travellers were 
up early. Breakfast over, they saun- 
tered into the old church opposite, 
and then made their way down to the river, 
which wound like a silver streak through moss- 
covered boulders of grey granite round the lit- 
tle village and away into the heart of the moor 
beyond. Mr. West joined them here, but 
whilst he and Lionel sat down to have a chat 
on the relative merits of Devonshire and Corn- 
wall trout fishing, Rollo wandered away and 
soon found himself outside the ruined priory 
they had been told about. With a boy’s curi- 
osity he climbed up the old stone wall, and 
perching himself on the top, saw to his sur- 
prise, an old lady watering her flowers. A cot- 
ton sunbonnet was on her head, and large 
leather gloves covered her hands; her skirt was 
pinned up, and her feet were incased in a huge 
pair of india-rubber over-shoes. But it was 
not her appearance that surprised him so much 
as her voice. Though no one was apparently 
within hearing, she was chattering away in a 
48 


Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 


49 


thin cracked tone, and every now and then she 
would give a delighted chuckle, and laugh at 
her own wit. 

And Rollo, listening, heard that she was not 
talking to herself, but to everything that came 
within her reach. 

Aha ! My good Mr. Bumble, your feast is 
in my nasturtiums this morning, I see ! Then 
for goodness sake don’t tantalise my sweet 
peas with your near approach. They are sus- 
ceptible to masculine attentions, and are simper- 
ing and fluttering with delighted anticipation 
of your visit. 

‘‘ But as to you. Master Grub, you are not 
going to creep into the heart of my best La 
France without a protest on my side. No, if 
your mission this morning is to destroy, it shall 
be something I value less than my roses. Allow 
me to conduct you to the other side of the wall, 
you will find a good many relations creeping 
out in the sun — what! Now this is the most 
outrageous piece of impudence ! ” 

She had sighted Rollo, and stood looking up 
at him with a threatening gesture as she bran- 
dished her trowel in her hand. 

Rollo was too interested to be abashed. 

Oh, please go on. Where are Master 
Grub’s relations. Is he a caterpillar? Please 


50 


Two Tramps 


don’t mind me. It’s like a story. And please 
I’ll be very good. I won’t talk, I’ll only 
listen.” 

I have one thing I always use upon inter- 
lopers,” said the old lady severely; and if 
you do not make yourself scarce this moment, 
I will bring it into action.” 

Rollo looked uneasy. 

Is it a gun? ” he asked. 

It is a garden hose,” was the grim reply, 
and the old lady rapidly walked toward that 
impleruent that lay in many white coils upon 
her lawn. 

Rollo saw there was determination in her 
action, and with a sigh he was preparing to 
scramble down from his post, when his foot 
caught in a loose stone, he tripped, and in an- 
other moment he fell with an alarming thud 
down on the wrong side of . the wall right into 
a strawberry bed. 

With a shriek the old lady left her hose, and 
running up seized hold of him with a trembling 
grasp. 

Are your bones broken, you rascal ? Stand 
up and see. Your head cut? Your teeth firm? 
Well it’s more than you deserve! Not hurt 
at all?” 

Rollo straightened himself manfully. 


Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 


51 


“ I’m all right. I’m awfully sorry, I’ll go 
out at the gate ” 

His blue eyes assumed a piteous look, as he 
gazed up at his questioner, his lips turned a 
whitish blue, he put his hand to his head, and 

with a little murmur 

Very sorry — I only feel a — a bit queer! ” 
he fell a little limp, lifeless figure at the old 
lady’s feet. 

She gazed at him in horror; then ran 
into the house and presently returned with 
a strong hard-featured maid in cap and 
apron. 

‘‘ Bless your heart, mum, ’tis only a faint. 
I’ll carry him in and bring him round in no 
time. He’s hurt his head most likely, and had 
a shock. He looks as if there ain’t much go in 
him!” 

When Rollo came to his senses, he found 
himself on an old chintz-covered couch in a 
cool dark room. 

Have I been asleep ? ” he asked dreamily. 

‘‘ You’ve given me a nice fright,” was the 
retort. '' Yes, Bridget, I shall speak my mind 
if I choose. Boys are always thoughtless, pre- 
tending to be what they are not. Why did he 
say he was not hurt? Why didn’t he tell me 
he had a bump as big as a duck’s egg on the 


52 


Two Tramps 


back of his head? Then I should have been 
prepared for his collapse ! ’’ 

The old lady was sitting a little distance 
from the couch looking at Rollo with stem 
eyes. 

Bridget, the maid, was standing close to him 
and smiled approvingly as she noted the colour 
stealing back to the little white cheeks. 

You’ve had a tumble, laddie; where’s your 
home? ” 

I haven’t got one. I’m a tramp with 
Uncle Lionel.” Rollo sat up as he spoke, and 
slid off the sofa, wondering at a bandage round 
his head, and still feeling rather dazed. 

You don’t look much like it,” said Bridget 
as she deliberately picked him up in her strong 
arms, and seated him on the couch again. 

Now stay there and answer the Missus’s ques- 
tions. I have my fowl to pick yet, and my 
pudding to make.” 

She stalked out of the room, and a softer 
light came into her mistress’s eyes, as she gazed 
at the little fellow facing her. 

‘‘ Now just sit still and give me your family 
history, and don’t tell me you are a tourist, 
for I hate them.” 

Rollo did as he was told, but before his story 
was done, a sharp ring at the old bell in the 


Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 


53 


courtyard was heard, and a minute after Mr. 
West and his uncle were ushered in. 

Their surprise was great when they saw him 
and heard of his accident, and Lionel was 
anxious at his looks. 

He's a bit of an invalid,’’ he said to old 
Mrs. Duncan; “ — travelling for his health. 
His head is the weak part about him. Why 
couldn’t you manage to injure your feet in- 
stead, Rollo? It would have been more con- 
venient!” Rollo looked aggrieved, not seeing 
the twinkle in his uncle’s eye. 

‘‘ I didn’t want to manage anything! ” he re- 
plied with downcast eyes. 

Except peep and pry into a private garden, 
and give a peaceable old woman a fright,” put 
in Mrs. Duncan. I shall keep him here as a 
prisoner for the rest of the day,” she added 
turning to Lionel with a little defiance in her 
tone. 

He will be a fortunate prisoner,” said Mr. 
West smiling. I know how comfortable 
Mrs. Duncan makes her visitors ! ” 

‘‘Tuts! Just leave him to me, and I’ll see 
that his head gets into its normal condition 
again. Now, I suppose you’ll be wanting me 
to act as showman over my own house. This 
is the very last time I’ll do such a thing, Mr. 


54 


Two Tramps 


West, even for friends of yours. V\l not en- 
courage people making gods of mouldy beams, 
and rotten stones and mortar. It’s morbid 
curiosity, hankering after a dead generation, 
that was no better or worse than our own is 
to-day! Did I ever tell you the story of my 
broken soap dish that was thrown over the wall 
by one of the maids? It was dug up by a 
tourist poking about amongst fallen stones out- 
side. He declared it was old English pottery 
of the thirteenth century, and I believe de- 
posited it in the Museum at Exeter! Now 
come this way. We will leave the boy here. 
He can’t get into mischief.” 

They left the room, and Rollo only con- 
scious of a bruised and aching head lay still 
in perfect content. Presently Bridget came in 
with a small basin of delicious smelling soup. 

Ye’ll need something to pull you round 
after your tumble,” she said. '^The mistress 
will see that you don’t want, I can tell 
you.” 

Rollo sat up and gratefully consumed every 
drop. 

I shall have to be going on soon,” he said 
gravely. Is the sun very hot just now? ” 

‘^Ay, isn’t it?” 

And Bridget pulled up the Venetian blind 


Miss Duncan, the Gardener 


55 


to let him see the sunny garden with the sim- 
mering heat rising from the ground. 

“ No, laddie,’’ she went on, you must have 
a quiet day now. Would you like a picture 
book?” 

No, thank you. I think I’ll— I’ll lie still. 
I feel Dandy will joggle me dreadfully. Do 
you think Uncle would wait till to-morrow to 
go on? ” 

‘‘ We will ask him. Bide ye there now, like 
a good little man.” 

Bridget disappeared, and the cool and still- 
ness of the darkened room had such a soothing 
effect that before very long Rollo was fast 
asleep. He was aroused at last by voices. 

Leave him here, Mr Derrick. If you want 
to do the neighbourhood do it, and come back 
for him to-morrow. He doesn’t look fit for 
anything. I’ll feed him up, and keep him quiet. 
The question is not so much, if he will like it, 
as whether it will be good for him, and I’ll an- 
swer for it that a sick child is the better for a 
woman’s nursing care.” 

You are right, Mrs. Duncan. It is very 
kind of you, but I hardly like ” 

What is it? ” asked Rollo suddenly. 

Then Lionel bent over him. 

“ Look here, little chap, this kind lady wants 


56 


Two Tramps 


to keep you here till to-morrow, and look after 
you. Will you stay with her? You seem 
rather shaky, and it will give Dandy a good 
rest if you do. How do you feel ? 

I've only — only a bit of a headache," mur- 
mured Rollo locking from one face to the other 
in a little bewilderment. 

Then he held out his small hand to Mrs. 
Duncan. I think," he said slowly, I like 
women best when I've a headache. I'll stay, 
please." 

They laughed, and Lionel said as he was de- 
parting, He knows when he is well off." 

Then Rollo dozed off to sleep again, and 
only woke to receive a dainty little lunch 
brought to his couch on a tray. 

But in the afternoon, he felt better. Mrs. 
Duncan brought some knitting in and sat in an 
easy chair by the window, and they soon 
drifted into talk. 

I should like to live with you for a little," 
Rollo announced. '' I've never lived in a gar- 
den. There's a good deal to see, I should 
think." 

So there is everywhere, if we use our eyes." 

Yes, but in London where I live you get 
tired of the people. There are hardly any ani- 
mals. Only horses and cats and dogs. And 


Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 


57 


no flowers and fruit growing. They are all 
picked before you get them.’^ 

I hardly think they would be growing any- 
where long if you were about/" was the dry 
retort 

“Well, it’s half the fun picking, isn’t it? 
But I like to see them growing too. And then 
there are wild animals in the country; the rab- 
bits, and squirrels, and hares, and the bees and 
butterflies, and all the birds! I didn’t know 
such birds were made till I saw them. Uncle 
tells me their names. It’s a pity the people in 
London have no room for animals, or for the 
country things.” 

“ It is a pity indeed,” assented Mrs. Duncan. 

Then Rollo came to more personal matters. 
“ Have you ever had any boys or girls live 
with you ? ” 

“ Never.” 

“ Did you never play with any when you 
were a little girl ? ” 

Mrs. Duncan looked at him with tightening 
lips. 

“ I was born after my father’s death,” she 
said, “ and my mother died when I was a fort- 
night old. I was brought up by an aunt who 
disliked children, and my childhood was one 
long martyrdom. STie and a governess effect- 


58 


Two Tramps 


ually crushed all joy that might have been my 
portion. My husband was chosen for me. He 
was twice my age and a confirmed invalid. It 
was a nurse he needed, not a wife. I don’t 
know why I am telling you this, but mine has 
been an unloved life from the beginning. I 
never played as a child, I never enjoyed life 
when I was young. When my husband died I 
took this old house, and my latter days are 
better than the beginning.” 

That’s like Job,” said Rollo, a sparkle com- 
ing into his eyes. ‘‘ I’m very fond of poor Job. 
I like to read about him. It says that God 
blessed the latter end of him more than the 
beginning.” 

I cannot say I have had much blessing,” 
said Mrs. Duncan with a queer little laugh. 

An unloved and unloving creature I am, and 
I am content to be so.” 

Rollo looked a little puzzled. I like people 
to love me, but I think only mother loves me, 
and — God.” 

There was silence, then the boy added re- 
flectively : '' There’s God left to love you.” 

Mrs. Duncan gave a kind of grunt, and 
Rollo, pursuing his thoughts aloud as was his 
custom, continued : 

Uncle wanted to tell a woman that, and he 


Mrs. Duncan, the Gardener 


59 


gave her a little book about it. I expect you 
know it without any telling. I thought every- 
body did, but Uncle said they didn't remem- 
ber it." 

“ Is your uncle a parson ? He didn’t look 
like it." 

Oh, no. He is just a tramp he says." 

They drifted then into talk over the garden, 
and once on her hobby, Mrs. Duncan had much 
to say to her interested and breathless listener. 

As the afternoon shadows began to creep 
across the sunny garden Bridget made her 
appearance once more. 

I’ve taken the tea into the garden, ma’am, 
under the beech tree. Shall I carry the little 
gentleman out, or will he walk ? " 

Oh, I can walk," said Rollo hastily. 

Tea on the lawn, under the shady beech, was 
delicious. Rollo was conscious of the restful- 
ness of the scene, and Mrs. Duncan seemed to 
have lost her sharp abruptness. Since describ- 
ing her beloved flowers, her voice had become 
almost soft in tone. Very soon after it was 
over, he was taken indoors again, and put to 
bed in a dainty little room by old Bridget; and 
in spite of an aching head, Rollo was soon fast 
asleep. 


V 


STRANDED 

R OLLO was quite well enough the next 
day to continue his travels, and after 
bidding his old hostess a warm fare- 
well, he found himself again jogging along 
through the fresh leafy lanes with his uncle. 

He gave a very full account of his visit to 
Lionel, who listened for the most part in silence. 

The latter end of my visit was better than 
the beginning,’’ concluded Rollo quaintly. I 
suppose ends often are.” 

Ends are pretty much what we make 
them,” said Lionel. 

But no one wants to make a bad end of 
anything,” argued the child. 

They make a bad beginning, and the end 
follows suit.” 

Then I ought to have had a bad end yes- 
terday ? ” 

Yes, you were mercifully preserved from 
your deserts.” 

The biggest end of all is Heaven,” said the 
boy dreamily: 

We are told of another,” was the quiet 
response. 


6o 


Stranded 


6i 


There was silence, the sunshine and life 
around them led to lighter subjects. Up and 
down hill, over a wild bit of moor where the 
rabbits scampered about in hundreds, then into 
a woodland glade on the side of a hill, and all 
this time they had not met a human being. It 
was cool and shady under the old beeches that 
bordered their way, and when they got into the 
depths of a mossy dell with last year's copper 
leaves still carpeting the ground, and the grand 
old trees just meeting above their heads, Lionel 
took off his hat, and with bare head stood up 
to meet the gentle breeze that fanned his heated 
brow. 

‘‘We must have a halt here; it will be good 
for our minds and bodies," he said. 

“ Yes," assented Rollo, slipping off his pony, 
“ and Tm quite hungry for some dinner." 

Dandy was tethered to a tree in an open space 
near where he could munch some soft grass to 
his great satisfaction. Then Lionel began to 
unpack his knapsack. He was a good caterer, 
and Rollo looked on with pleased eyes, as a 
bottle of milk, rolls, hard-boiled eggs, cheese, 
and buns were all deposited on the ground. 

“Now I tell you what we will do," said 
Lionel; “we will be two old women to-day, 
and have a good cup of tea. IVe got a packet 


62 


Two Tramps 


here. You get some sticks together and we’ll 
make a fire.” 

Away darted Rollo. This was after his own 
heart. Sticks and dry leaves soon made a 
cheery blaze; Lionel filled his tin mug with 
water from the stream and set it on the fire to 
boil. And a few minutes after they were both 
enjoying a cup of tea, far more refreshing 
under the circumstances, than it would have 
been in any lady’s drawing room. Rollo ate 
heartily; then when he had finished his meal, 
sat watching the fire with fascinated gaze, 
whilst Lionel took out his pipe and pulling his 
hat over his eyes, prepared for a siesta. 

I’ve been thinking,” began Rollo. 

Go on thinking,” interrupted Lionel lazily, 
but let me think too, and leave me alone for 
an hour.” Rollo got up, and cheerfully obeyed. 
He climbed trees; he broke rotten branches, 
he found a chaffinch’s nest, he watched two 
stoats’ perambulations, he revelled in his sur- 
roundings, and longed that he could be a wood- 
cutter and have his home in a wood. The 
afternoon sun crept through the trees, and still 
Lionel lay like a lotus eater on his mossy couch. 

At last his call ringing through the wood, 
startled the birds and rabbits, and brought 
Rollo breathless and panting to his side. 


Stranded 


63 


“ We must hurry on. I have been asleep 
and did not notice the time. We are a good 
ten miles from where I want to put up to- 
night.’' 

I should like to stay here years/’ said 
Rollo, as he mounted Dandy’s back and looked 
wistfully through the green arches and 
brown glades. ‘‘It seems wasted if no one is 
here.” 

Lionel smiled. “ God has many corners of 
this beautiful earth that are still unspoilt by 
man’s presence.” 

Rollo pondered over this, then he said hum- 
bly, “ I’m afraid I’ve spoilt a little of it this 
afternoon. I stripped some bark off a tree, and 
broke three branches, and dug up some moss.” 

Lionel was about to make some reply, when 
a sound behind made him look round. There, 
with the low sunlight on her curly head, and 
her white sunbonnet dangling by one string in 
her hand, came little Fay. She stepped up to 
them serenely. 

“ I’ve been coming after you all day. I want 
to be a tramp.” 

Lionel stood astounded. “ How on earth 
have you followed us ? ” he asked. 

Fay’s radiant face became slightly clouded. 
“ You’re cross ! ” she pouted. “ I’ve been run- 


64 


Two Tramps 


ning and walking, and sitting in a cart a part 
of the way, for I got in when they wasn’t look- 
ing, and I got out when they stopped. I fol- 
lowed Dandy’s feet in the mud.” 

Rollo got down from his pony with shining 
eyes. His little soul was moved by Fay’s enter- 
prising spirit. He moved towards her admir- 
ingly. “You’re splendid!” he said. “Oh, 
Uncle, let her tramp with us, she’s every bit as 
good as a boy I ” 

But Lionel looked vexed beyond measure, 
and did not view the little runaway with as 
much delight as his nephew. 

“ You’re a very naughty little girl,” he said 
sternly ; “ and if I were your grandfather I 
would lock you in a room all day, or hobble 
you, as they do the donkeys.” 

“I’m coming with you,” repeated Fay, with 
an obstinate turn to her small mouth. “ I like 
the boy, and if he rides Dandy, and has picnics 
every day, I shall do it too 1 ” 

Lionel rubbed his head in perplexity. 

“ You won’t send her back? ” pleaded Rollo 
coaxingly. 

“ I shall have to take her back this moment 
on the pony,” was Lionel’s reply. “ I hope I 
shall meet some one on the way coming after 
her. It is too bad to hinder us so.” 


Stranded 


6S 


Rollo looked subdued at once. Must we go 
back?^^ 

You mustn’t. You could never walk it. 
Now look here, Rollo, can I trust you? ” 

With those fearless blue eyes fastened on 
him, Lionel spoke more gently. You must 
walk on steadily by yourself till you come to 
the next village. I will put you in the road, 
and you can’t make a mistake. It is only two 
miles and a half. Duneven it is called. You 
must go to the little inn, and wait there till 
I come. You have not done much walking to- 
day, so I think you will manage it. We 
must give up the idea of getting on farther 
to-day.” 

Rollo held up his head importantly. Of 
course I can manage it. I could walk six miles 
easy ! ” 

You must wait at Duneven till I come. 
Now, young lady, up you get ! I wonder what 
will cure you from playing these pranks ! ” 

Fay indignantly protested against being 
taken home. Finding Lionel in earnest, she 
burst into floods of tears, and it needed Rollo 
to comfort her. 

Don’t cry. Fay; when I grow up to be a 
man I will find you out, and will marry you, 
and then we will ride through woods all the 


66 


Two Tramps 


summer and live in castles in the winter, won’t 
you like that ? ” 

Fay dried her tears at once. And will you 
let me live alwayth out of doors ? ” 

Always.” 

Then she threw her arms round his neck and 
kissed him. ‘Til never forget it,” she said; 
“ and mind you bring plenty of buns with 
you!” 

Then qute cheerfully she allowed herself to 
be seated on Dandy, who was started at a trot, 
and, waving a farewell to Rollo, she called out, 
“ You must knock at the door three knocks, 
and I’ll know who you are.” 

Lionel walked at her side, after giving his 
small nephew final directions, and murmured 
under his breath, “ The ways of children are 
passing strange.” 

Rollo tramped along sturdily for some time. 
After the wood, the road did not appear very 
interesting; it was bordered by high banks and 
hedges, and, when curiosity impelled him to 
mount to the top, he only saw fields stretching 
away on each side. 

Elation at tramping along alone kept up his 
spirits for a time. He whistled and sang; he 
longed that his little London schoolfellows 
could see him in this strange country, and then 


Stranded 


67 


he began to wish he had some one to whom 
he could talk. 

‘‘ If only Uncle had let Fay come with us ! 
I do want some one that really can understand 
things, ril marry her when I grow up, and 
wedl have two ponies, hers will be white and 
mine black, and we’ll have no one to tell us 
where to go and when to stop. I wonder when 
I shall see Fay again, and I wonder where she’ll 
run away to next. I expect she’d like to be me. 
I shall go in to the inn, and ask for supper to 
be got ready like Uncle does. Oh, dear, this 
is a very long road. I wish some one would 
come along.” 

But no one came, and Rollo’s short legs 
began to ache. ‘‘ It’s quite ten miles, I’m 
sure ; I ’ve walked for ever so many hours, 
and it’s nothing but a road for ever and 
ever.” 

At last some cottages were to be seen, and the 
little fellow quickened his pace. Then came a 
blacksmith’s shop, and there Rollo had to stop, 
for the fascination of it proved too much for 
him. A horse was being shoed, and he watched 
the process from beginning to end. Never in 
London had he been so favoured. Another boy 
was watching too, and the two interchanged 
a few remarks. 


68 


Two Tramps 


As Rollo turned away, the village boy fol- 
lowed him. “ Where be ’ee goin’ ? ” 

“ To the inn,” was the prompt reply. “ Where 
is it?” 

A rather dirty forefinger indicated a small 
white house, with a creaking signboard that 
was swaying to and fro in the evening breeze. 

“Where do ’ee come from? Not these 
parts ! ” the rustic continued. 

Rollo gave his usual answer with cheerful- 
ness. 

“ I’m a tramp, and my Uncle is behind, and 
I’m to wait for him at the inn.” 

“ Got any coppers ? ” 

“ I have two — three, I think,” said Rollo, 
grandly jingling some loose coin in his pocket. 

“ Gi’ me one for tellin’ ’ee the inn.” 

“But,” objected Rollo, “you don’t want a 
penny because I asked you the way.” 

The village boy grinned, then with a change 
of tone he said, “ Want ter see a live fox? ” 

“ Oh, where ? ” 

“ A’ll show ’ee the nest of ’un through that 
’ere gate.” 

It was a bait that took. Rollo eagerly fol- 
lowed him through into a field. A moment 
after, he was tripped up, his pocket rifled of 
the few coins he possessed, and the village lad 


Stranded 


69 


was out of sight. Rollo picked himself up, a 
wiser and a sadder boy. He came in a few 
minutes to the inn, and looked up disconso- 
lately at the signboard. It represented a bull’s 
head of ferocious aspect, with blood-shot eyes 
and frothy mouth, the tongue hanging out, and 
horns lowered ready for a charge. 

Rollo turned away his eyes, and walked in 
at the old doorway. There were three or four 
men seated in the small taproom with mugs of 
beer, and they were too busy with their talk to 
notice him. But lounging against the door 
was the landlord, and as he smoked his pipe 
with a pleasant smile, Rollo addressed him 
timidly. 

‘‘ Please, is this the Inn?” 

‘‘Yes, the Black Bull, established since 1700 
or thereabouts ! ” 

“ Can I wait here? My uncle is coming on, 
and he told me to come here first. I expect we 
shall like some supper.” 

“ Here, wife ! ” the landlord shouted, “ see 
to this young gentleman; let him wait in the 
parlour.” 

Out came a gentle-faced, care-worn-looking 
woman, who took him into a very fusty little 
parlour with a stale smell of tobacco and of 
spirits. The window was blocked with gerani- 


70 


Two Tramps 


urns and fuchsias. Rollo looked round it with 
a sinking heart. 

May I have a glass of milk?’’ he asked. 

I’m so thirsty. I s’pose my uncle won’t be 
very long.” 

‘‘ I’ll bring you a glass of milk, if you sit 
still, and promise not to get into mischief,” was 
the gloomy reply. 

Rollo seated himself in a high chair, and 
swinging his legs, surveyed the room. There 
were a few highly-coloured sporting prints on 
the walls, some books on a glass chiffonier, and 
a wonderful array of china on a shelf above 
his head. 

‘‘ There’s no mischief that I could do,” was 
his thought. ‘‘ I wish Uncle would come.” 

He had his milk, and then patiently sat and 
waited. The sun was setting now, and the 
room began to get dusk. At last his patience 
was exhausted. He opened the door and went 
out. The landlord was still standing by the 
door; but a man passing by, had stopped for a 
chat, and their tongues were almost as busy as 
those in the tap-room. Rollo stood and lis- 
tened. At last the man in the street went on, 
and the boy ventured to remark. 

''How many people do you talk to in the 
day?’^ 


Stranded 


71 


The landlord looked at him with a twinkle 
in his eye. 

All the world/' he said, leastways all my 
world." 

There are lots of worlds aren't there?" 
said Rollo in his meditative fashion. I 
have two, and one of them is quite a little 
old world to me now. It's London, and my 
school there. Would you like me to tell you 
about it ? " 

Rollo's silent time in the stuffy little parlour 
had brought him out panting to talk to some 
one. The landlord looked him down, and see- 
ing possible entertainment for himself in this 
small, large-eyed, white-faced boy, seated him- 
self on the wooden bench outside the door, and 
Rollo eagerly followed suit. 

I sometimes think I'd like to write a book," 
he continued, ‘'and put my two worlds in it. 
I would have one chapter for my little world 
London, and twenty chapters for my country 
world. My London world is full of noise and 
crowds, and lessons in a school-room, and shops 
and everyday life, the same except in the holi- 
days, when we see a pantomime, or go to 
Madame Tussaud's, or the Crystal Palace; but, 
my country world — ah ! " Here the little 
speaker lifted his head up with a long-drawn 


72 


Two Tramps 


breath, ‘‘Oh! isn’t it a lovely place? There’s 
something fresh every day, and there’s such a 
big sky, and so much room to move, and such 
lovely animals and birds to see ! ” 

Ay, there’s a powerful lot of room,” said 
the landlord, taking his pipe out of his mouth 
and refilling it slowly; ‘^but folks mostly 
thinks London the big world, I reckon. My 
wife’s nephew, he’s a Londoner, and he comes 
down to us and turns his nose up at our country 
habits. A lively young spark he is, who has a 
tongue like a baby’s rattle, but he can’t sit a 
horse square and fair for all his London teach- 
in’, and as to drivin’, well he’s a caution; and 
then he says horses be too slow nowadays, we 
move by steam and wheels, and he tears up and 
down our roads here with his cycle, and comes 
in a ragin’ at our stones and ruts, till my wife, 
who can’t say bo ! to a goose, she hits out that 
if he’d give us notice nex’ time, we’d board our 
roads and carpet them for him and his cycle! 
Ha ! ha ! When my wife does make a joke ’tis 
sure to be a good un’ ! ” 

They talked on in the dusky twilight. Rollo 
gave his experiences as a '' tramp,” and the 
landlord proved a good listener. But when the 
dusk deepened into darkness, and no uncle ap- 
peared, Rollo grew uneasy. 


VI 


BOBBY, THE EOCTOR^'S SON 

T T OW much does a bed cost?^^ Rollo 
1“ I asked presently, adding hurriedly 
* Tm afraid I haven’t any money 

at all now, a strange boy picked my pocket. I 
wish my uncle would come.” 

Oh, well,” said the landlord, Tom Bentley 
by name, we won’t make a trouble over that, 
the wife will find you a bed and a supper, too, 
as far as that goes. I’ll give her a call.” His 
voice rang out lustily, and Mrs. Bentley ap- 
peared immediately. She did not look pleased 
at the prospect of having Rollo as a guest, and 
eyed him in a discontented fashion. 

You haven’t bin and run away from school, 
have you?” she said. You be too small to 
be wanderin’ about like this! Boys are all 
alike, and they never speaks the truth, so ’tis 
quite impossible to pay notice to what they says 
— and, Tom, you’re that innocent you’d take a 
thief in, and make him comfortable. I mind 
that nice spoken lad a year gone, who had a 
wonderful tale about his pocket bein’ picked, 
and he had supper and a bed and a hearty 


73 


74 


Two Tramps 


breakfast, and vowed he'd call again and pay. 
He never has yet, and I have a bill o' six or 
seven shillings for him to settle when he 
comes ! " 

Rollo's cheeks were hot and red. 

I think," he said, squaring his shoulders, 
and trying to look an inch taller than he really 
was; ‘‘I think I'll just go a little way along 
the road, and meet my uncle." 

Then he marched away with a very brave 
exterior, and a sinking heart. 

The village seemed deserted now; lights were 
to be seen from the cottage windows, but the 
high road lay dark and still, just discernible by 
the light of the rising moon. 

Rollo pursed up his lips and began to whistle. 
‘‘ I am getting a bit shaky, but I won't be," he 
was thinking. “ I won't go near that nasty 
woman again. I wonder what real tramps do 
when they have no money? I believe they go 
to the workhouse. I wonder if there is one 
here? But then. Uncle would never find 
me! I've read of boys sleeping in woods, 
but there only seems the road here; I do feel 
so awfully hungry. I don't know what to 
do." 

Poor little Rollo! He struggled with his 
fears, with his loneliness, and hunger; but at 


Bobby, the Doctor's Son 


75 


last tears rose to his eyes, and a lump in his 
throat. 

He walked along slowly. There was no 
sound or sight of any one, and then suddenly 
a light flashed out in front of him, and a bell 
sounding told him that a bicycle was coming 
towards him. 

Then, in desperation, he called out — 

Please stop, I want to ask you something.’’ 

‘"Hey! What? Who on earth are you?” 
It was a broad-shouldered burly figure that 
sprang off the bicycle, and for an instant Rollo 
shrank back. But the voice was that of a gen- 
tleman, and he took courage. 

“ I’m waiting for my uncle. Have you seen 
him on this road ? I don’t think he’ll ever come, 
and I don’t know where to sleep, to-night, be- 
cause I’ve no money.” 

“ What is your uncle like, little man ? ” 

“ He’s just like himself; he’s like no one else 
that I can think of. He has my pony with 
him.” 

“A brown moor pony? Ah, then, I have 
seen him. It had cast a shoe, and he was at 
the blacksmith’s with it, but miles away from 
here!” 

The stranger and Rollo looked each other up 
and down. Then Rollo said with a little quiver 


76 


Two Tramps 


in his voice, Can you tell me the way to the 
workhouse ? ’’ 

'' Ay, I could,’’ said the stranger ; but I 
fancy I had best house you for the night. Can 
you step out for half a mile? I’ve a little 
son, your size; he’ll lay hands on you with 

joy-" 

Please, are you the clergyman ? ” 

No; the other chap that you generally find 
in these benighted parts. Can’t you guess ? I 
look after the good folks’ bodies, and the parson 
after their souls. We halve the parishioners 
between us.” 

But,” said Rollo standing up in the middle 
of the road and prepared to argue the matter 
out. I shouldn’t like to be halved, because 
my soul is me, and my body, too. I shouldn’t 
like two people looking after me.” 

Suppose you were very ill, who would you 
want to see ? ” 

My mother,” promptly answered Rollo. 

The doctor laughed heartily. 

I think we’ll be moving on, and continue 
our talk as we go ! ” 

But how will Uncle know where to find 
me?” 

Where did he expect to find you?” 

At the Inn. And I’ve been waiting there. 


Bobby, the Doctor’s Son 


77 


but the woman wouldn’t believe me, and didn’t 
want to give me a bed.” 

Mary Bentley is a skinflint. Trouble has 
turned her sour. Come along, and I’ll leave a 
message with her for your uncle, as we go by.” 

Rollo trotted along quite contentedly, but 

he asked presently, 

What kind of trouble has turned her 
sour ? ” 

^‘She lost her only little girl. A mad dog 
bit her, and it was too late to save her. She 
was just bound up in that child, and has never 
been the same since.” 

Rollo wanted to hear all particulars. She’s 
a person perhaps who would like Uncle’s mes- 
sage.” 

‘^What’s that?” 

Well it’s a kind of private message, but 
he left a book about it with a woman we saw 
once. It was to tell her that God loved her.” 
Is your uncle a parson? ” 

No he’s just a tramp.” 

He’s monopolising a parson’s vocation ! ” 
said the doctor with a shake of his head. 

They relapsed into silence, and soon came to 
the Black Bull. The doctor was evidently 
great friends with the landlord, for he stayed 
chatting to him for a good ten minutes, and 


78 


Two Tramps 


Rollo waited at a discreet distance. He could 
not forgive the landlord's wife for taking him 
for a runaway schoolboy, and was thankful 
when the doctor joined him, and they tramped 
up a steep lane, arriving at a comfortable square 
red brick house at the top of it. 

The doctor opened the door with a cheery 
whistle, and the next minute a rosy-faced 
laughing boy came bounding down the stairs. 

Here, Bobby, come and make friends with 
this youngster. He is going to stay with us 
to-night. Tell Mrs. Crane to make him up a 
bed in your room. And let us have supper at 
once, for he is starving, and so am I ! " 

It seemed like a pleasant dream to Rollo to 
be sitting down presently to a comfortable meal, 
and listening to the incessant chatter of Bobby. 
He was tired enough to like to listen instead of 
talk, but when the meal was over and the doc- 
tor left the two boys together, confidences be- 
came mutual. 

It must be a lark to go tramping along 
every day to different places. I wish I could 
come with you. I do lessons with our vicar, 
but I have always done them by the afternoon. 
Where are you going to-morrow ? '' 

I don't know," responded Rollo. That^s 
just the best of it, I never know what will turn 


Bobby, the Doctor’s Son 


79 


up. I don’t even know if my uncle will turn 
up. I hope he will.” 

It’s awfully late — past ten o’clock. Dad 
will be packing me off to bed. Look here, if 
I call you at five o’clock, will you come out fish- 
ing with me before breakfast ? ” 

How do you do it ? Is it hard ? ” 

Bobby’s laughter rang out. You wait and 
see me! I’m a reg’lar dab. Dad has taught 
me, and I know a lovely spot for trout. You 
ought to catch fish every morning for break- 
fast!” 

I thought,” murmured the town boy, ‘‘ that 
fish came out of the sea. Can you catch them 
in any water? ” 

Where have you lived all your life?” said 
Bobby with supreme contempt. 

Oh, I know I don’t know anything. I’ve 
been in London, and people who live there are 
never taught anything at all. At least, not 
about the country, and all the really interesting 
things you ought to know.” 

A sharp ring at the door interrupted this con- 
versation. It proved to be Lionel. Rollo 
heaved a deep sigh of relief when he saw him. 

I see you have fallen into good hands,” 
Lionel said; did you think I had failed you? ” 

I didn’t know what to think till I met the 


8o 


Two Tramps 


doctor, but it's all right now,” responded Rollo 
in a comfortable tone; ‘‘and Bobby is going 
to take me out to fish to-morrow morning 
early.” 

The doctor appeared and was soon engaged 
in an animated discussion with Lionel, press- 
ing him to make his house his headquarters, 
and insisting upon putting him up for the 
night. 

Lionel at first refused, then demurred and 
then acquiesced, for he felt it would be diffi- 
cult to get away from the hospitable little doc- 
tor. 

Rollo was too sleepy by this time to care 
much what became of his uncle, and he tum- 
bled into bed, and was sound asleep before the 
doctor’s housekeeper came in to see if he were 
comfortable. 

At half-past five the next morning two small 
boys were trotting across green, sweet smiling 
meadows. Rollo lifted up his little head in 
ecstasy. 

“ Oh, how fresh and cool it is ! What is it 
smells so nice ? ” 

“ It’s just the early morning, it’s the best 
time of day to be out, isn’t it, when nothing 
has got stale and hot? ” 

^‘ Why they’re cutting hay, that’s what I 


Bobby, the Doctor’s Son 


8i 


smell! Oh, do let me see a hayfield! IVe 
never been in any, except in books.’’ 

Rollo was peering over a hedge as he 
spoke, but Bobby pulled him by the jacket impa- 
tiently. 

Oh, come on ! We can go into a hayfield 
any time of day. We shall get no fish if you 
don’t make haste.” 

So Rollo was hurried on through the mead- 
ows, and down a steep bank to a clear sparkling 
grey stream, rushing with white foam over 
dark brown rocks, and shaded on both sides by 
overhanging trees and elder bushes. Now 
keep quiet. Father says, — ‘ Tongue still, hand 
steady, eye busy ! ’ Come down here and sit 
on that rock. Now see me cast my line! ” 

Bobby was in his own eyes the hero of the 
hour, but much as Rollo admired his dexterity 
in handling his rod, his rigid pose as a keen 
fisherman, and his nonchalance concerning his 
surroundings, the fascination of this trout river 
held him spellbound. No boy can resist the 
enthralling power of a piece of water at any 
time, and to Rollo, this merry dashing stream; 
alive with an infinity of beautiful creatures be- 
low and above its surface, with the morning 
sun touching it here and there with golden rip- 
ples, and with the still, dark pools between the 


82 


Two Tramps 


brown rocks, seemed the most delightful spot 
he had yet seen on his travels. 

He did not want to talk, and if his eyes were 
busy, his thoughts were busier still. 

Grand excitement ensued when Bobby 
caught and landed his first trout. It was a small 
speckled one, and Rollo watched its dying 
struggles with pity and concern. It seems so 
cruel on such a lovely morning. He didn’t 
think when he woke up a few hours ago that 
this was going to be his death morning ! ” 
Bobby laughed. Oh, you are a rum chap ! 
Fishes have no feelings ! ” 

How do you know ? I’ll turn my back, if 
you don’t mind, while the next one dies. They 
take such a long time doing it ! ” 

An hour passed. The two boys had shifted 
their positions several times, and Bobby had 
caught six trout. One he declared to be two 
pounds, and as Rollo was ignorant on such a 
point, Bobby’s statement was undisputed. 
When Bobby wound up his lines and shouldered 
his basket, Rollo’s tongue was loosed. 

I should like to live by a river all the days 
of my life.” 

Oh, no, you wouldn’t. It’s awful sticky in 
the middle of the day — the flies bother so. I 
like it before breakfast and late in the evening.” 


Bobby, the Doctor’s Son 


83 


But I shouldn’t mind the flies. I like 
watching them, there are so many sorts. I 
think I should make a collection of them ” 

But you wouldn’t like to see them die ! ” 
said Bobby sarcastically. 

I think small things aren’t so bad as big, 
are they? I dare say if I saw you catch fish 
every morning, I should get accustomed to 
them.” 

Hush ! ” said Bobby pulling hold of Rollo’s 
coat and bringing him to a standstill. Look 
at that lazy fellow on that stone there. Keep 
quiet, and you’ll see that tiny bird feed him. 
It’s a cuckoo. Ever seen one have his break- 
fast?” 

No, never!” 

Rollo’s eyes grew big with excitement. 
‘‘ Can’t he get his own breakfast ? ” 

Hush ! you’ll scare them away. He’s a 
lazy beggar, and the little bird looks after him 
all day, see him rolling his eye round after him 
and squeaking as if he were just born? I 
wonder whether the tiny bird worships him or 
hates him ? There ! He’s found a worm. Now 
look.” 

The cuckoo perched on a stone was opening 
his huge mouth, and the little bird flying up, 
deftly dropped a worm in. Then they flew 


84 


Two Tramps 


away together to repeat the exploit in the next 
field. 

'' I wonder/' said Rollo thoughtfully, which 
is the happy one of those birds? " 

Bobby laughed. The cuckoo of course. 
He has a jolly easy time. He is born a bully, 
and bullies till he dies." 

But bullies are horrid. We had one at our 
school, he was the biggest. Miss Percy said 
he was too big for her. I'm sure he was too 
big for me. I couldn't lick him, you see; so he 
did what he liked with me. He went to an- 
other school last term. We were so glad. But 
are you sure the cuckoo is a bully ? He mayn't 
be, do they all make small birds feed them, or 
is it only the old ones and the ill ones who have 
them, do you think? " 

Oh, no; it's the lot of them. If you see a 
cuckoo flying, the little bird is always behind 
him." 

'' Little things can help big things," said 
Rollo thoughtfully. 

Philosophy was not one of Bobby's char- 
acteristics. He burst into an animated account 
of an otter hunt at which he had been present, 
and Rollo grew keen and eager at his descrip- 
tion. They came into the house with glowing 
cheeks and ravenous appetites. 


Bobby, the Doctor’s Son 


85 


Rollo found his uncle accepting his host's 
invitation to stay with him over the Sunday, 
which was the following day. 

I am a busy man myself," said the good 
doctor; but my boy will introduce you to the 
best spot for trout fishing in the county. If 
you're a keen fisherman you'll take your lunch 
and spend the day out. I sha'n't expect you 
back till the evening. What do you say ? " 
‘^That will suit me first-rate. If I am not 
skilful with my line, I shall be laying up stores 
of good air and sunshine. And my small 
nephew revels in an open-air life." 

So it was settled, and an hour afterwards 
Lionel and the two boys were sauntering 
through green meadows by the side of over- 
hanging woods, while at their feet the grey 
water was dashing merrily along over rocks and 
boulders inviting them to sound its depth, and 
take from its bosom some of its numerous 
family. 


VII 

SUNDAY^'S SERMON 

I T was an ideal day for fishing; grey clouds 
swept the sky ; there was a feeling of rain 
in the air though none actually descended. 
The cool breeze from the water kept the flies 
from being over-troublesome, and Lionel gave 
himself up to the pleasures of the hour. Bobby 
and Rollo scoured the woods, and their confi- 
dences were many and quaint. 

I hate books,’’ said Bobby, can’t think 
why we need have them at all. A lot of stupid 
chaps who like to see their writing printed, 
that’s all they are.” 

Rollo gasped. 

But I love them, they tell you such a lot ! 
My father tells me more than any book, 
and I can remember what he says, which is 
more than I do when I have to read it ! ” 

'' But if your father had never read books, 
he wouldn’t be able to tell you anything,” ar- 
gued Rollo. 

^‘Bosh! He keeps his eyes and ears open 
and so do I. Books ought to be only for the 
deaf and dumb and blind.” 

And don’t you like stories ? ” asked Rollo, 


86 


Sunday’s Sermon 


87 


after a pause, in which he had been trying to 
take in Bobby’s last statement. 

Don’t I just! You should hear father tell 
a yarn ! He makes your eyes drop out of your 
head ! ” 

‘‘ But,” said Rollo a little triumphantly, 
s’posing you were miles away from your 
father, and not near anybody who could tell 
you stories and things, then what would you do 
without books ? ” 

I’d have a ripping good time. I’d be a 
Robinson Crusoe.” 

‘‘ But he had books, hadn’t he ? The Bible, 
you know. Oh, Bobby, you couldn’t get on 
without the Bible.” 

Why not? ” 

It — it helps us to be good and teaches us 
about God.” 

‘'Don’t you be a prig! I know all about 
God that I want to know.” 

Rollo looked embarrassed. “ I don’t want 
to be a prig, but long ago people were burnt 
alive because they found they couldn’t live with- 
out the Bible.” 

Bobby was silent for a minute. “ Well p’raps 
I’d have the Bible for Sundays; not a single 
other book.” 

Here their conversation ended, for they came 


88 


Two Tramps 


across a small group of boys round a tree. A 
very tiny boy was climbing with great diffi- 
culty up the topmost branches of a young elm. 
A bird’s nest was his goal, but the light branches 
were swaying with his weight, and he was look- 
ing down with a scared, terrified face. “ I 
can’t go no further,” he hailed, “ I dursn’t. I’m 
falling.” 

“ You don’t come down till you get it ! ” 
shouted a big boy at the foot of the tree. “ I’ll 
make ’ee climb ! ” 

He seized a big stone and hurled it with such 
an accurate aim that it caught the child on 
the side of his head, and he uttered a sharp 
cry of pain. 

This was too much for Rollo. The blood 
rushed to his face. Stepping up he confronted 
the bully boldly. 

“ What are you making him climb for when 
he doesn’t want to, and hitting him when he 
can’t hit back? You just stop it ! ” 

The big boy turned in astonishment, and 
Rollo then recognised him as the one who had 
robbed him of his last pence the day before. 
“ Look ’ee here,” he said savagely, “ you make 
yerself scarce, or I’ll send you up another tree. 
Small fry like you can’t afford to cheek your 
elders ! ” 


Sunday’s Sermon 


89 


Then Bobby came forward. Joe Masters, 
you’re a bully and a coward. If you aren’t, 
take off your coat and fight me?” 

There was a murmur of approval from the 
other small boys assembled, but Joe turned 
away sullenly. 

I dessay ! And have the doctor after me 
for smashin’ up his baby. No thank’ ee! Not 
if I know it ! ” 

Rollo looked after him in disgust as he slunk 
away. 

He’s a thief too, he picked my pockets yes- 
terday.” 

The small boy quickly descended the tree. 
He was shaking from fright, and his com- 
panions who had been laughing at his plight 
a few moments before, now were loud in dec- 
lamation against his persecutor. 

‘‘ He wanted the nest and was feared to go 
himself so he sent Tommy.” 

He switched his legs with a stick to make 
him climb quicker ! ” 

I’ll lick him well if he doesn’t keep out of 
my sight,” said Bobby wrathfully. Go home. 
Tommy, as fast as you can, and if he touches 
you he’ll have to reckon with me. Here! 
P’raps I’d better see you out of the wood, come 
along.” 


90 


Two Tramps 


The boys dispersed. Rollo found his way 
back to his uncle. He lay down on the grass 
by his side and watched the flowing river. 

It’s a pity,” he announced presently with a 
sigh, that some people have to be bigger than 
others. They wouldn’t be cruel if they were 
all the same size.” 

Lionel waited for his nephew to explain 
himself, and Rollo added after further thought 
there was the cuckoo this morning making 
the little bird feed it, and Joe making Tommy 
nearly kill himself to get him a bird’s nest, 
and — and ” 

Yes ? ” said Lionel encouragingly. 

And you killing fishes ! ” finished Rollo. 
Lionel smiled. 

The big species preying on the small,” he 
remarked; ^^it’s one of Nature’s laws.” 

There was a long silence. 

I s’pose,” said Rollo slowly, God is the 
only person that is quite, quite fair. I expect 
He thinks a beetle quite as good as a lion, and 
a little boy as good as a big one.” 

Yes, He is quite fair,” his uncle replied. 
And He will be quite fair through all eternity, 
though atoms of the universe try to pick His 
character to pieces, and settle what He must 
do, and what He must not.” 


Sunday’s Sermon 


91 


This was one of his uncle's grown-up 
speeches that made Rollo '' ache trying to un- 
derstand it/' as he expressed it. 

And God loves everybody and everything," 
Rollo continued with a pensive glance at some 
dead trout in his uncle's basket. 

You will never be a sportsman," Lionel 
said good-humouredly. '' Give your brain a 
rest. I'm not in a mood to talk philosophy to- 
day." 

I shall have a chapter about bullies in our 
book,'’ went on Rollo. ‘‘ I shall put in the 
cuckoo, and Joe." 

Not me, I hope? " 

^‘No, you aren't a bully," said Rollo quietly. 

I think I'm glad we aren't all the same size 
for some things. What's the opposite word 
to bully? " 

Benefactor — will that do ? " 

Yes, I shall call the chapter bullies and 
benefactors, and all big people must be one or 
the other." 

Lionel shook his head doubtfully. 

Only two classes gives me such a poor 
chance. If I'm not a bully must I be a bene- 
factor? " 

Yes," said Rollo firmly. I'm not quite 
sure what a benefactor is, but it's something 


92 


Two Tramps 


good, and the very opposite to Joe and the 
cuckoo.” 

“ I will try to be it,” murmured Lionel, with 
a twinkle in his eye. 

“ Fancy ! ” said Rollo incredulously, “ Bobby 
hates books. He just hates them and says 
they’re no good at all.” 

“ He’s a little savage ! ” 

“ He says they’re only made for deaf and 
dumb and blind people.” 

“ He’s a little fool.” 

“ He knows more than I do, though. He 
says he gets it all from his father. But his 
father can’t be quite as good as a library of 
books, can he?” 

Lionel shook his head. 

“ Do you think, to-morrow being Sunday, 
and there being a good many books in the doc- 
tor’s study, and possibly raining, I might just 
read one of them? ” 

“ I think you had better not. I promised 
your governess you should not open one.” 

“ Except the Bible,” said Rollo. “ I’ve got 
that you know in my bag.” 

“ Yes, I will allow you that.” 

Bobby appeared at this minute very red and 
breathless. 

“ Time for lunch,” he announced. “ Fve 


Sunday’s Sermon 


93 


seen those small boys to the village and given 
Joe Masters a bit of my mind.” 

Rollo delightedly helped to unpack the 
luncheon from the basket, and in a few min- 
utes fisherman and boys Avere contentedly 
munching their sandwiches and meat pies. 
Bobby was the talker, Lionel lay back against 
a granite boulder, and save when he put in a 
word or two seemed wrapped in thought. 

I wish you’d stay a good long time with 
us,” said Bobby, ‘‘ we’d have ripping fun ! or, 
better still, couldn’t you take me on with you? 
Dad would let me go-. I’m sure you want 
some chap to keep you lively, don’t you? ” 

Not I ! ” said Lionel when he was appealed 
to. 

I’m a quiet, peaceable individual, and Rollo 
and I know each other’s ways by this time. I 
couldn’t take charge of another boy.” 

A little girl wanted to join us yesterday,” 
said Rollo. It would be rather fun to gather 
a company together as we went along the road. 
It would be like the Canterbury pilgrims.” 

‘‘Who are they?” asked Bobby. 

“ Oh, they are book people, you wouldn’t 
like them. I have pictures of them in London.” 

“ I shouldn’t like to be mixed up with girls,” 
said Bobby with fine scorn. 


94 


Two Tramps 


And I am not going to have a dozen imps 
tied to my tail I assure you,” asserted Lionel. 

They finished their lunch; then the two boys 
disappeared and the joys of that afternoon’s 
scramble in the woods by the river, dwelt long 
in Rollo’s memory. 

He was a very tired but a very happy boy, 
as he walked into the house that evening, and 
when Lionel went to see him the last thing 
before he retired for the night, he heard him 
drowsily murmuring to himself : “ There are 
bullies, and benefactors, and Bobby and birds, 
but they’re all beautiful — and I love the world 
in the woods ! ” 

Sunday dawned fair and cloudless, Lionel 
took the two boys to the parish church; the 
doctor was away on his rounds. There was 
a hush and stillness in the little country church 
that was very restful to Lionel Derrick’s spirit. 
The vicar, an old grey-haired man preached 
from the text, “ Who died for us, that whether 
we wake or sleep we should live together with 
Him.” 

Lionel listened, and thought. He stepped 
out of church with a glow in his eyes that told 
of the quickening of his soul. Rollo walked 
beside him with knitted brow, Bobby danced 
here and there, delighted that the long service 


Sunday's Sermon 


95 


was over. The doctor was home to early din- 
ner, but he was called to a patient immediately 
afterwards. Lionel betook himself to the 
orchard, and lounged back under the apple trees 
with his pipe and some books. Here, half an 
hour later Rollo found him. 

May I come too?’’ he inquired knowing 
that his presence was not always welcome. ‘‘ I 
only want a think out.” 

I should like to cut your brains clean out 
of your head, for the time you are with me,” 
said Lionel lazily, as he looked at the earnest 
eyes and white cheeks of his nephew. “ It 
would give your body a chance then, and I 
should take you back to London a reformed 
character.” 

Rollo looked rather downcast. ‘‘ I don’t 
think I’m working my brains. I don’t feel 
them. I won’t talk.” 

A silence fell on the pair. Rollo squatted 
down at a respectful distance from his uncle; 
presently, he lay full length on the ground, chest 
downwards, and a little later rolled over on his 
back and stared up into the sky. He seemed 
ill at ease, and his uncle who was covertly 
watching him at last thought fit to speak. 

Well,” he said, you had better relieve 
your mind, so out with it.” 


96 


Two Tramps 


Rollo sat up eagerly. “ You won’t mind if 
I talk a little.” 

“Fire ahead!” 

“ It’ S i — it’s about ‘ living together.’ The 
sermon you know, — and can’t boys listen to 
sermons without being prigs ? Bobby says they 
can’t.” 

“ I think it is not the listening that makes 
them prigs. Perhaps the descanting on them 
afterwards to their schoolfellows would be 
priggish 1 ” 

“ I don’t see it,” said Rollo perplexedly. 
“Shall I be a prig if I speak to you about 
it? ” 

“ Not necessarily.” 

“ Well, look here, how can we live together 
with Jesus Christ if He is in heaven, and we 
are on earth? and what has His dying to do 
with it ? The clergyman said He died to bring 
us into ‘ close touch ’ — those were his words — 
‘ close touch ’ with Himself. I should think 
‘ close touch ’ means near enough to touch Him 
doesn’t it? ” 

“ That’s about it. Perhaps the other way 
about would be correct. Near enough to let 
Him touch us.” 

“ But how can we be as near as that? ” 

“ Do you ever pray, Rollo ? ” 


Sunday's Sermon 


97 


Yes, I say my prayers at my bed, you 
know, but I do sometimes pray/' 

Rollo lowered his voice and the blood 
mounted to his cheeks. He added shyly. ‘‘ I 
prayed as I walked the other night just before 
I met the doctor, when I thought you were lost, 
and God answered me pretty quick." 

How could He hear you if He was so far 
away ? " 

Rollo's eyes brightened. 

Oh, well, of course He is always close to 
us; close enough to speak to." 

Then why not close enough to touch ? " 

'' Really touch? " 

Yes, really touch your soul. That's the 
part that must live together with Him, not so 
much your body though your soul ought to 
rule that. How are you tempted ? your wrong- 
doing generally comes from inside, and your 
soul is too weak to resist temptation. A touch 
from Christ will make it strong." 

I should like to have a strong soul," said 
Rollo earnestly. 

There was silence again, then Rollo re- 
marked Jesus died for us ; He was punished 
for our sins, that's what Miss Percy always 
says; to let us go to Heaven she says, but the 
clergyman seemed to say different," 


98 


Two Tramps 


Not at all,” said Lionel rousing himself, 
and forgetting in his interest that he was only 
talking to a small boy with too much brain. 
'' That’s the mistake half of us make. Some 
think His death began and ended with the pun- 
ishment of our sins, and the belief in that is 
only necessary in our lives. That is the foun- 
dation truth, the starting point, but what we 
were hearing about this morning was much 
more than that. Christ did not come down 
from Heaven to live and to die for us and then 
go back to His throne and leave us to get on 
here by ourselves as well as we could. He 
died that He might purchase us for Himself we 
are told. He wants us to live our lives down 
here, and help us from the cradle to the grave, 
to be our unseen friend it is true, but to be a 
very real one for all that. I’ve been thinking 
it out for myself this morning. ^ Lo I am with 
you alway,’ He told His disciples, ^ even unto 
the end of the world.’ He lives together with 
us, and we with Him. And from the time we 
trust Him with our sins, He wants nothing to 
separate us from His companionship. This 
is what makes, or ought to make holy 
lives.” 

How much of this Rollo took in, was diffi- 
cult to say. But he startled his uncle in a few 


Sunday's Sermon 


99 


minutes by saying, Then Jesus Christ is walk- 
ing through Devonshire with you and me? 

Let us believe it, and act upon it without 
over much talk,’’ said his uncle relapsing into 
silence, and Rollo subsided. 


VIII 


A HAPPY OLD WOMAN 

E arly Monday morning, Rollo and his 
uncle were off on their travels. Bobby 
walked through the village with them. 
As they passed the Black Bull, both the land- 
lord and his wife were at* the door. Rollo 
looked across at them, then brought his pony 
to a standstill. 

Uncle, have you one of your messages I 
could take that woman ? She was rather nasty 
to me, but the doctor said she had been turned 
sour by her little girl dying.’" 

Lionel put his hand in his pocket, and gave 
the boy a little book. He trotted across the 
road well satisfied. 

^‘Good morning, please. My uncle turned 
up all right, and we’re going away.” 

Ay, so ye be, sir, an’ me wife be sorry for 
her quick words. I wish ’ee well, sir.” 

’Tis best to be on the safe side,” said Mrs. 
Bentley looking at Rollo dejectedly, ‘^but if 

I’d a known as ye knowed the doctor ” 

It doesn’t matter,” said Rollo cheerfully, ‘‘I 
just came over to wish you good-bye, and to 


100 


A Happy Old Woman 


lOI 


leave you a message from my uncle. At least 
he carries them about with him, but I believe 
they really come from God ! ” 

He put the little book in her hand and ran 
away. Husband and wife eyed it with interest. 
The title brought tears to Mary Bentley's eyes. 

As one whom his mother comforteth, so 
will I comfort you.” She turned into the house, 
took it up to her bedroom, and when her day's 
work was done went upstairs and read it. 

Well,'' said Bobby as a crossways was 
reached, the signal for his dismissal, I think 
it's a stunning shame you don't take me with 
you! I could take Rollo off your hands a bit, 
Mr. Derrick, and I bet I'd make him a little 
livelier. I wouldn't give him much time for 
thinking. And, as to books, trust me for keep- 
ing them away from him ! Oh, why can't I be 
told to have a rest from lesson books! It's 
awful rot having your own father the doctor ! '' 

Good-bye, Bobby. I do hope ^we shall 
come back this way. It's dreadful knowing 
people, and then leaving them. I wish you'd 
come up to our school in London. I'm sure 
you'd like it ! '' 

Bobby's laugh rang out so merrily that even 
Lionel joined in it. 

‘‘ Fancy any chap liking a stuffy schoolroom ! 


102 


Two Tramps 




Look at what it's done for you ! I've twice the 
flesh and muscle, and you are older than 
me." 

Ah well," said Lionel pitying his nephew's 
crestfallen looks. Men don't rise to be great 
men through their flesh and muscle, it's gen- 
erally through their knowledge and wits ! " 

Bobby raced off with a parting shout, and 
Rollo felt in low spirits. 

I think," he suggested meekly; “it would 
be nice to stay still in the country for a little." 

Lionel shook his head. 

“We want to see Nature in all her moods 
and phases; we didn't come down here to live 
amongst people. We may like a word with 
them in passing, but you'll have to put up with 
me as a companion, and no one else, and you 
knew what to expect when you started with 
me!" 

“ Oh it's all right," Rollo said hurriedly, “ I 
really think I like you best. Bobby does pull 
one about so. I've had five wrestles with him, 
and lots of small fights. And I've quite twenty 
bumps and bruises from him I'm sure! He 
jumps on you, when you don't expect him. 
Now I don't have that from you ! " 

“ No," said Lionel slowly. “ I do my jumps 
in another way." 


A Happy Old Woman 


103 


It was a very hot day. The lanes through 
which they passed seemed close and stuffy ; flies 
annoyed them, heat simmered slowly upwards ; 
and when they found a halting place for lunch 
under a shady tree just inside a field, Rollo 
flung himself down on the grass with a tired 
sigh. 

‘‘ Dandy jogs so, I feel quite achy ! '' 

‘'You’ll feel better after lunch,” said Lionel 
consolingly. 

“ I should like a glass of milk.” 

“ When you’re rested you can run across the 
field to that small cottage. Do you see a chim- 
ney behind those elms ? Perhaps they will give 
you some milk.” 

Rollo looked and nodded. 

Lunch over, Lionel stretched himself out for 
a smoke and a nap. Dandy tethered to the 
gate was munching the long grass and bracken 
in the hedge. Rollo, pulling his straw hat well 
over his eyes, marched across the field with a 
cheery whistle. He found the cottage, but out- 
side it looked deserted. Some fowls were 
scraping up a flower border. A black cat sat 
on the top of an old shed and watched his ap- 
proach with suspicious eyes. Windows and 
doors were fast shut, and no smoke appeared 
from the chimney. The boy knocked at the 


104 


Two Tramps 


door, and then as no one answered tried to 
open it. 

The latch lifted easily and he walked in, find- 
ing himself in a tidy little kitchen. There was 
no sound or sight of anyone, until he fancied 
he heard a groan from an adjoining room. 
V ery timidly he stepped into it, and there saw, 
lying on the floor an old woman. Pity con- 
quered fear, and he ran forward. 

Have you tumbled down ? Can I help you 
up again?/' 

The old woman turned her head. 

“ The Lord be praised ! " she ejaculated in a 
very weak voice. He has sent His angel at 
last! And I were that faithless, because he 
didn't come of a sudden I " 

‘T'm not an angel," said Rollo, stooping 
over her. I wish I was, and then I could lift 
you up easy, but I'll try the best I can ! " 

“ 'Tis me rheumatiz. 'Tis in the joints like, 
an' won't let they work." 

She gave a groan as he tried in vain to raise 
her. 

No, little Master, 'ee be too frail; but 'ee 
can fetch help, only do 'ee give I that drap 'o 
tea! I were puttin' of un to me lips, when I 
went scatter, an' the cup be smashed an' t'were 
my grandmother's, but there be a drap in the 


A Happy Old Woman 


105 


pot still. ’Tis tea I be thirstin’ bravely for, an’ 
the longin’ gotted betwixt me soul an’ the texes 
I were repeatin’ along of, an’ I were nigh 
crazed. For ’twas to Happy Land above I 
thought meself departin’ to, an’ yet ’twas the 
tea that I wanted of most ! ” 

Rollo’s quick eyes soon espied a little brown 
teapot on the hob. The fire was nearly out, 
but he poured the lukewarm beverage in an- 
other cup, and knelt down holding it to her 
lips. 

She drank it greedily, and gave a satisfied 
sigh when she had drained the last drop. 

Do ’ee fetch some ’un to help me to me legs 
agen. I be stiff as the poker for sure, an’ I’ve 
satted on this cruel cold floor for nigh half the 
day!” 

I’ll fetch my uncle ! ” 

And away up the field Rollo tore, not heed- 
ing the sun or the flies. 

Come quick ! quick ! There’s an old 
woman tumbled down, and she can’t get up 
again, and she’s too big for me to lift I ” 

Lionel stretched himself, and yawned. Then 
he rose to his feet, and once aware of the neces- 
sity for speed, his long legs took him very 
quickly to the cottage. 

Very tenderly and carefully, he lifted the 


io6 


Two Tramps 


old woman up and got her in a wooden chair. 
She seemed quite cheerful, and beyond a groan 
or two from her rheumatic twinges, was evi- 
dently very little the worse for her trouble. 
She never ceased talking from the time she first 
caught sight of Lionel. 

‘‘ You’re a doctor I reckon. For sure ’ee 
have gotted a doctor’s way of handlin.’ I do 
have a brave likin’ for the doctors. They be 
gen’lemans, an’ pass the time o’ day so cheery 
like. Passon first, doctor second, there be no 
folk like ’em for us poor critturs. You b’aint 
a doctor ? Eh, bless my soul, what be ’ee ? A 
squire ? ” 

'' No, not a squire.” 

'‘He’s a tramp,” broke in Rollo; "and so 
am I, and I came to ask you to give me a glass 
of milk — at least ” — 

Rollo looked round the bare little kitchen 
and hastily added, — 

" Water would do quite as well. I’m so 
dreadfully thirsty ! ” 

" Bless my soul ! Go out in the yard, dearie. 
There be the pump handy. Milk be scarce in 
these parts. The missis at the farm yonner do 
give I a drap o’ scald, but I be fair doubled up 
wi’ rheumatics, an’ ’tis a brave long walk for 
1. Her be rather stiff, but ’ee be a proper 


A Happy Old Woman 


107 


hearty little gentleman, an’ will be quicker nor 
I for sure ! ’’ 

The ‘‘ her ” was the pump, and Rollo dis- 
appeared at once. The old woman went on 
talking, and Lionel felt such a pity for her weak 
lonely state, that he set to work, lighted her 
fire, put a fresh kettle of water on, and tidied 
up generally before he left her. 

She assured him she would do finely now. 
She lived quite alone, but every evening a 
nephew working on a farm near, called in to see 
if she wanted anything. 

‘‘ Eighty-four las’ Christmas week sir ! 
Thank the Lord for keepin’ of me! An’ hale 
an’ hearty but for the rheumatiz. You’m right 
welcome to come in, if so be ’ee come by agen 
sir. I be fair dazed wi’ me upset, but folk 
reckon I be wunnerful spry for me years ! An’ 
the Lord do stan’ by me remarkable. ’Twas 
a miracle the little master come in, ’twas the 
Lord that dooed it, He just bratied of ’un by 
when I were in need of he ! ” 

Rollo stared at her gravely. 

Do you have Jesus Christ living with you 
always? We do. He goes about with us. Of 
course He brought me to you. It wasn’t a 
miracle. He knew you wanted help.” 

Bless me soul, ’ee do talk like Passon ! But 


io8 


Two Tramps 


’tis gospel fac\ Back long the New Year time, 
’Liza, me third daughter married to John Car- 
ter, one o’ they Carters o’ Pittsboro’, an’ upper- 
most stock they be — her come in, an’ sez her 
to me 'Mother,’ her sez, '’tis too lone like for ’ee 
here, ’ee must come an’ bide long o’ me.’ ' No,’ 
sez I,’ ’tisn’t lone I be! Me fowls an’ me cat 
be good company as things o’ earth goeth. An’ 
the Lord o’ Heaven Hisself won’t let an old 
body feel lonesome when He bideth long o’ 
me! ” 

" You’re a happy old woman,” he said. 
" Many a crowned head would like to lie on 
your pillow. Good-day, and thank you for a 
bit of cheer by the way.” 

He put something in her hand, then called 
Rollo, and both took their departure. 

"What did you give her?” asked Rollo as 
they crossed the fields together. " Another 
message? ” 

"No. She did not need one. I think she is 
more in want of food for her poor old body, 
than for her soul, so I gave her that.” 

" And a message from God is soul food,” 
said Rollo thoughtfully. " People don’t always 
want that kind of messages then ? ” 

" It was my turn for a message,” Lionel 
said; " she gave one to me.” 


A Happy Old Woman 109 


Rollo’s face brightened. 

I think it’s nicer to get messages than to 
give them; I didn’t know messengers got mes- 
sages. Postmen never get letters, do they? ” 

Well, now use your brains a little,” said 
Lionel with a short laugh. '' Do milkmen 
drink milk, bakers eat bread, shoemakers wear 
their shoes out? ” — 

Rollo interrupted : 

But doctors and clergymen don’t want 
medicine and sermons.” 

'' You ask the next one you come across 
what he thinks about it. When messengers 
think themselves above receiving messages, 
there is something very wrong with them. 
Don’t you go through life thinking it is your 
role to do good to others and that you need 
nothing yourself from them. We all can learn, 
more than we can teach, to the end of the 
chapter ! ” 

Rollo struggled to understand this, but 
Lionel’s last word brought a sparkle to his eyes. 

'' Tell you what,” he said; '' our book must 
have a chapter on messengers.” 

Yes, we must put them in.” 

'‘And whenever we meet people on the 
road,” said Rollo eagerly, we ought either to 
give them a message or get one from them.” 


I lO 


Two Tramps 


‘‘ That’s about it,” was his uncle’s brief re- 
ply; as having reached their halting place, he 
untied Dandy’s halter, and made preparations 
for another start. 

That afternoon was a tiring one to both. 
Their way led along a straight high road; the 
trees were few and far between; and the sun 
shone down upon them with uncomfortable 
fierceness. 

At last Rollo said in a weak little voice : 

Dandy is jogging me so. May I get down 
and walk? I’m a bit headachy.” 

Lionel looked at his white face with com- 
punction. 

‘‘ I’m afraid we’re a good four miles from 
the village I want to get to. If we pass a farm- 
house we could stop, and have a cup of tea. 
Cheer up, the sun will soon be going down 
and then it will be cooler.” 

Presently a dark belt of fir-trees came in 
view. A thick plantation of them bordered 
one side of the road. As they came up to them 
the dusky shade and coolness through their 
aromatic stems made Lionel pause and con- 
sider. He was a man of prompt action. In 
five minutes he had placed Rollo comfortably 
at the foot of one of them, and Dandy was 
tethered close by. 


A Happy Old Woman 


III 


You shall have a good rest before we go 
on. We will both take a mid-day nap, and 
wake up refreshed and cool.” 

Rollo curled himself up with a weary sigh, 
rested his head on his uncle’s knee, and was 
in another five minutes fast asleep. 

Lionel sat meditating and smoking. He 
pulled a little book from his pocket; the still- 
ness and hush under the tall slender pines 
quieted and rested his spirit. The words from 
his small book fed it. 

A little later he too slept. 

The sun began to sink, sending his shaft of 
light like golden arrows through the brown 
firs; rabbits peeped out of their holes and 
darted from one hiding place to another, and 
then along a little well-worn track stepped a 
young girl. She was reading as she walked, so 
her progress was necessarily slow. 

Suddenly she raised her head, and con- 
fronted the two sleepers. She started violently, 
and the light of recognition sparkled in her eye. 


IX 


LIONEL^S GOLDEN GORSE 
S she stood there in her white dress and 



hat, with her sunny brown hair cluster- 


^ ing around her little ears and neck, she 
looked, with her startled brown eyes, like some 
shy wood nymph. The quick colour ebbed and 
flowed in her fair face as she gazed at the 
sleepers. Her lips quivered, she glanced 
around her anxiously, then looked again, not at 
the child, but at the man with deep emotion. 

Under the spell of those earnest eyes, what 
man could sleep ? 

Lionel opened his eyes, and for the moment 
thought he was dreaming. 

Effle ! ’’ he exclaimed, rising to his feet, 
and striding towards her. Tell me it is not 
your ghost! Is it really you in flesh and 
blood?’’ 

'' Do I look like a ghost? ” was the bright re- 
ply; and for an instant she turned away her 
blushing cheeks. 

'' But — but I left you in London ? ” 

Yes, and I thought you were in town still. 
Uncle had a slight attack of influenza, and 


II2 


Lionel’s Golden Gorse 




came down here to get rid of it. We are stay- 
ing with a cousin of his, a clergyman, and the 
Rectory is only half an hour's walk from 
here." 

Is it at Dudley Barton ? That is our next 
stopping place." 

‘‘Yes. Oh, why did you not come sooner? 
We go on to Farntower to-morrow." 

“ Let us be thankful we have met at all," 
said Lionel gladly, and then he came closer to 
the girl. “ Are you pleased to see me Effie? " 

“ Is not any one pleased to see the face of a 
friend in a strange country ! " 

As he stepped nearer her, she stepped back. 
There was a mixture of fun and seriousness in 
her tone. 

But Lionel would not be trifled with. Here 
under the pines, his golden gorse was blossom- 
ing. What would a few pricks signify, if he 
could at last come to close quarters ? 

“ For the past two years our meetings have 
invariably been in a crowd. Now here alone, 
Effie, I ask you to deal truly and sweetly with 
me. Your uncle is not present. Be your free 
natural self for once. Give me a word of 
hope." 

She was standing now with her hands 
clasped behind her against a pine. Her book 


Two Tramps 


114 


had fallen to the ground, and her wonderful 
tell-tale eyes for one instant met his in a swift 
upward glance. 

Yet something in her slight upright figure, 
an undefinable ‘‘ touch me not '' attitude, kept 
him just two feet away from her. 

I cannot bid you hope,’’ she said in a quick 
crisp tone. I am tied and bound as you know 
to a tyrannical, yet loving old relative, who will 
not suffer any other man across his threshold. 
I am his nurse, his companion, his slave; he 
holds me to my promise made five years ago 
when he was so ill, that I would not leave him 
till he died. He has forbidden you the house, 
and he has forbidden me to go to Mrs. 
Vaughan’s because he discovered that I met 
you there. What hope can I give you? ” 

‘'You can assure me that you think of me 
often; always; that you will wait as I will 
wait, till he changes his mind, or till he requires 
your services no longer.” 

“Till he dies? Oh, Lionel do not wish his 
death.” 

“ Honestly in the sight of God I do not. 
Poor miserable jealous old man, perhaps this 
bit of his life is the happiest he has ever experi- 
enced. It would be so, I know to me, could I 
but change places with him,” 


Lionel’s Golden Gorse 


115 


A tender wistful smile was in her eyes and 
on his lips at the thought. For a moment there 
was silence, then he took a step forward, and 
lightly brought the girhs hands from behind 
her back, and held them in his own. 

Now dear one, here we are, pulse to pulse, 
with no one to thrust us from each other, and 
God’s own blessing waiting to fall upon us. 
Dare you say under these pines, in this silent 
wood that we have not been brought together 
for a purpose this afternoon? We love each 
other. I have told you of my love before, 
though you have tried to frustrate every at- 
tempt I have made in that direction. You love 
me. Your sweet honest eyes have told me so. I 
have learnt to see your very soul through them, 
and you cannot deceive me. Now give your- 
self to me as if we stood at God’s altar. Cir- 
cumstances may still divide our bodies, but our 
souls and spirits will be linked together. We 
can afford to wait if we are secure in each 
other’s love and faithfulness.” 

His tone vibrated with passion and fervour. 
A quiver passed through her frame. She re- 
sisted no longer. He felt as he pressed her 
trembling hands in his that the tension relaxed, 
and she was conquered. 

Why will you make me put into words 


Two Tramps 


1 16 


what you ought to have known long ago ? ” she 
said, making a feeble effort to smile. 

‘‘ I want the words,’’ he said briefly with 
great self-control. 

I would not have let you take my hands in 
such a masterful grip, if — if my heart had not 
been ready to accompany them.” 

He smiled then, and stooped his face. 

Lips met, and a dual existence for each, com- 
menced from that moment never in their case 
to terminate throughout eternity. 

When Rollo awoke, he was astonished to 
hear the murmur of voices. But for the 
moment he could see no one, so he scrambled 
to his feet and prepared to reconnoitre. 

Behind some pines he saw his uncle in eager 
converse with a stranger. He stepped forward, 
and was surprised at the start he gave them. 
Was it possible that there was just a little frown 
on his uncle’s forehead as he caught sight of 
his nephew ? 

‘‘ Run away, Rollo. I am talking to a 
friend.” 

I must run away, Lionel, don’t keep me, 
and let me speak to this small nephew.” 

She held out her hand to Rollo, but he 
turned his back on her, and ran as if for his 
life. 


Lioners Golden Gorse 


117 


Lionel smiled. 

He is an intensely obedient child, is he not? 
Why should you go so soon? 

I must. I came out for a walk with a 
book. I shall barely get back in time for tea, 
and Uncle always likes me to read to him after- 
wards. It was the shade and coolness of these 
pines that tempted me. How little I thought 
they would contain you? We will come a part 
of the way with you.’’ 

Hastily Lionel went back to Rollo and 
Dandy. 

Come along as quickly as you can. I have 
met a friend. Ride on in front of us — ^you 
can’t mistake the way, it is a straight road.” 

Rollo mounted his pony, a soft breeze had 
sprung up, and the sun began to lose its power. 

It is getting sleepy,” said Rollo to himself 
as he watched it sinking slowly behind the belt 
of pines. 

He did not look behind him, but when a cer- 
tain lane was reached, he heard the two behind 
him come to a standstill, and wish each other 
good-bye. 

How far from here is Farntower ? ” 

An hour’s journey by train. It is no good, 
Lionel. You must not attempt to follow us.” 

It is preposterous that you and I should 


ii8 


Two Tramps 


be wandering about Devonshire almost within 
earshot, and not be together. I shall not make 
any promise to keep away from Farntower. 
Where do you stay ? ’’ 

‘‘ At the Red Dragon, it is a delicious old 
country inn they say. Uncle has been there 
before. We have the most lovely view of the 
moor.'' 

The voices dropped to a lower key. Rollo 
rode steadily on. Presently he came in sight 
of a village, his uncle overtook him. 

Now we will put up at the inn and have 
a substantial tea. How is your head ? better?" 

Quite well thank you." 

Lionel was in the best of spirits, but Rollo 
was very quiet. They entered the inn which 
was in the village street, and were shown into 
a private parlour looking out into an old-fash- 
ioned garden behind full of hollyhocks and 
sunflowers. 

Rollo curled himself up on a low broad win- 
dow seat and put his head out of the open win- 
dow. Lionel ordered a meal, then restlessly 
paced the garden walks. Rollo looked at him 
in thoughtful wonder. 

When they were busily refreshing them- 
selves with a dish of eggs and bacon, tea and 
bread and butter, Rollo's tongue was loosed. 


Lioners Golden Gorse 


119 


‘‘ Did you give her a message, or did she 
give you one, Uncle? ’’ 

‘‘ We both gave each other one,’’ said Lionel 
looking across at his nephew curiously. 

She looked like a fairy,” went on Rol- 
lo. I suppose you really did know her 
before.” 

'' Why do you question it ? ” 

“ Because she came to meet you in the wood. 
Witches do that and fairies, they turn them- 
selves into beautiful ladies, they always do it in 
the woods, I was afraid perhaps — ” 

''Oh you need not be afraid. Queens and 
lovely princesses wander about in woods, and 
sometimes meet the one they are looking 
for ! ” 

" And then ? ” questioned Rollo eagerly. 

" I will leave you to finish the tale.” 
Something in his uncle’s tone silenced the 
boy. When tea was over he ran out into the 
garden, and there on a wooden seat close to 
some bee-hives sat an old crippled man. Rollo 
marched up and shook hands with him. 

" How do you do ! We are tramps, my uncle 
and I, and we’re going to sleep here to-night. 
Are you sleeping here too? ” 

" ’Tis eighty year come Michaelmas that I’ve 
a slep’ an’ eat an’ drunk in yonner house ! ” 


120 


Two Tramps 


He nodded solemnly after giving this in- 
formation. Rollo looked at him and pon- 
dered. 

'' Does it belong to you? Have you never 
been away from it ? 

Belang to I ! 

The old man rose in fury. He beat his stick 
against the bench to add emphasis to his 
words. 

Do this ’ere ' Red Rose ’ belang to I ? Ask 
that old dawg lyin’ there, they dratted fowl, 
that be so busy scratchin’ up the beans, they’ll 
tell ’ee there is not a blessed piece o’ chiny or 
furnitur in that there house that didn’t belang 
to I ’fore Johnnie an’ his missus were horned! 
Belang to I! In course it do. I bratted me 
missus when her were a little maid wi’ pink 
cheek an’ curly hair to the ‘ Red Rose ’ when 
Joe Simmitt were a layin’ down his brush from 
paintin’ of her. I mind the smell o’ the fresh 
paint now. Sez I to she ‘ Smell the Rose, Sue? ’ 
An’ her giveth a sniff — ’Ay that I do tu I ’ sez 
her, an’ I took her roun’ the neck an’ I giv um 
a smackin’ kiss. ‘ But this be the purtiest rose 
to me,’ sez I. Ay an’ I mind ” — 

The old man sat down again and became 
slightly incoherent in his recollections. 

Rollo took a seat by his side. 


Lioners Golden Gorse 


I2I 


I like people when they're very old/' he 
said confidentially, as he swung his legs to and 
fro; '' because they know such ,a lot. And I 
like to hear what the world was like before 
I came into it. What was this house like eighty 
years ago ? " 

The old man responded eagerly, in no ways 
taken aback. 

The coaches did come by, I mind, an’ brave 
an’ gay they made the road wd’ their horns a 
buglin’, an’ the horses steamin’ an’ sweatin’, an’ 
the drivers a swearin’ an’ drinkin’, an’ crackin’ 
their jokes wi’ I ! Ay them were the days fur I ! 
The ladies an’ the gents from Lunnon, an’ 
often times a suspecty characky wi’ his cloak 
up to his eyes of ’un, an’ a voice in the boots of 
’un! An’ I mind. Great George — ever heard 
tell of ’un little master ? Saint George he called 
hisself, but he were the t’other way roun’ most 
folks did reckon, there weren’t much saint of 
he ! He rode a black boss, an’ he did paint ’un 
white, an’ red, an’ yeller by turn, to make fools 
of us. Es fay ! He were a bold ’un ! Many a 
time did I give ’un a drink, an’ nex’ news were 
the coach overturned, an’ the passengers an’ 
they vallybles so mixed, that when they sorted 
theyselves an’ gotted to they legs, an’ helped 
by a perlite stranger, why what follers? The 


122 


Two Tramps 


passengers left, an’ the vallybles taken, an’ 
never did they sot eyes on they money an’ 
joolry an’ such like agen ! An’ nex’ day Great 
George come ridin’ up. ‘ Heard the noos ? ’ sez 
he to 1. ' Terrible state o’ things in Christian 

country ’ sez ’un, ‘ these scoundrels must be 
ketched an’ hung ! ’ he sez. An’ then he rideth 
off wi’ that big laugh o’ his’n. Ay, dearie me, 
back along, those days were real good 
’uns!” 

I love hearing about it,” said Rollo en- 
thusiastically. How I wish there were rob- 
bers and highwaymen now! Fancy, if Uncle 
and I were to meet one on a dark night I 
I wish we could I What was Great George 
like?” 

He was nigh on seven foot, an’ his boss 
were to match. He had a big laugh, an’ a soft 
voice like a woman’s, an’ nobody couldn’t 
catch of ’un ! ” 

‘‘ And what became of him ? ” 

I never heerd tell. Some did say he were 
thrown in a bog, some that he turned methody 
an’ giv’ up his sins, an’ some that his horse were 
shot, an’ he couldn’t make up his mind to ride 
another ! ” 

I suppose it was wicked of him,” said 
Rollo thoughtfully. But I do like hearing 


Lionel’s Golden Gorse 


123 


about it. I wish there could be good robbers. 
They’re so much more exciting than any one 
else. I would like to be one myself.” 

The old man was back in the doleful present, 
again. 

‘‘ Folks be different now, ’tis Johnnie this, 
an’ Johnnie that, an’ young Tom me eldest 
gran’son be more ’count than I ! Tom be goin’ 
to marry nex’ week, an’ his sweetheart never 
so much as passed the time o’ day wi’ I. But 
her took count of I, sez she to Tom — ‘Your 
gran’feyther be a burden to ye all,’ sez she — 
the young hussy! Sez I the nex’ time I 
catcheth sight on her, — 

“ ‘Not so big a burden, as them idle ratty 
pates that eats their husban’s vittles, an’ 
empties his purse over ribbons an’ flowers, an’ 
maketh fun o’ the man that putted together the 
money for they to squander I ’ ” 

Down came the stick with such vehemence 
that Rollo started to his feet. 

“ ’Tis said,” continued the old man who al- 
ways quoted Scripture, when his wrongs 
proved too much for his feelings, “ ‘the Last 
shall be first, an’ the First last,’ an’ the old 
man that be put aside an’ shoved in corners, 
will be righted up yonner, an’ will trample his 
enemies under foot ! ” 


Two Tramps 


I 24 


‘‘ I expect you’ll get there first, before any of 
us,” Rollo said, eyeing him respectfully. 

This did not seem to comfort the old man. 
He shook his head. 

‘‘They be all wantin’ me in me grave! ” he 
said in quavering tones. “ ’Tis cruel hard 
on I!” 

“ But you’ll be in Heaven, not in the grave,” 
said Rollo brightly. “ I should ask God to 
take you very soon, ’specially if you aren’t 
happy. I wouldn’t mind going to Heaven to- 
morrow. Miss Percy told me when I was ill, 
— and I used to get rather frightened, because 
I heard the doctor say he couldn’t pull me 
through — she told me that you go fast asleep 
and wake up in Heaven ! ” 

“ Ay, but it be an awesome place to find me- 
self in, wi’ Bible folks an’ such like, an’ I never 
could bide strangers ! ” 

“ But Jesus will be there,” the boy said 
eagerly and softly. “ You know Him.” 

“ I b’aint a scholar, an’ I b’aint acquainted 
wi’ Him ! ” 

There was a little wistfulness in the old 
man’s tone. He added, — 

“ Heaven be a brave long way off from I ! ” 
“But,” pursued Rollo, “Jesus is here now 
close to us. He walks along every day with 


Lioners Golden Gorse 


125 


us, wherever we are. We don’t talk about it, 
Uncle and I, we said it was best not to, but 
when we’re quiet we think about it a lot. If 
you just think He is close to you, it makes it 
very nice. You can’t help knowing Him, and it 
makes you want to be awfully good ! ” 

The old man shook his head in hopeless 
despair. 

‘‘ ’Tis too hard. I b’aint a scholar.” 

Oh well, I can’t say it any different. I 
know He’s here close to you, and you can’t 
make Him a long way off anyhow, so if you 
want to speak to Him you can.” 

Rollo was called indoors by his uncle; he 
nodded to the old man, and ran off. 

It was bedtime, and soon in a big bed in an 
old-fashioned room Rollo slept deeply and 
well. 


X 


KIZZY THE NURSE 

^ ^ T T looks as if we are in for a spell of good 
I weather/' 

^ Yes, wouldn't it be nice to live 

quite out of doors ? Tell you what ! We could 
camp out like gypsies." 

Lionel did not rise to this bait. 

Do you think you could get on without me 
for a day or two Rollo ? " 

‘‘I s'pose I could. Should Dandy and I 
tramp on without you ? " 

No, I should make arrangements for you 
to stay at a farm or inn. I don't think I would 
leave you here. I want to go about eight miles 
further to-day. An old nurse of mine lives 
about that distance off, and I thought she would 
take care of you for a day or two." 

I don't want to be nursed," said Rollo with 
injured dignity. I could get on by myself 
very well indeed. Are you going away ? " 
Only by train somewhere; I may be away 
a couple of days." 

Rollo looked curiously at his uncle. They 
were at breakfast the next morning; Lionel 
seemed absent-minded. He poured out a cup 


126 


Kizzy the Nurse 


127 


of hot water and passed to his little nephew in- 
stead of tea, he had tried to read a newspaper 
upside down, and had not responded to any of 
the boy’s remarks. Rollo shook his head in a 
quaint fashion. 

I’m afraid he’s tired of me ! ” was his 
thought; but he said nothing. 

They left the inn directly after breakfast. 
Rollo went out to wish his old friend good-bye. 
He was feebly walking up and down the gravel 
paths talking to himself as he did so. 

Rollo handed him a little book. 

I asked my uncle to give it to me for you. 
It’s a message. My uncle is a kind of mes- 
senger besides being a tramp. He carries mes- 
sages in his pockets for people. You’ll see 
what it’s about. I don’t quite know myself, 
but I know who it comes from.” 

'' Eh ? Thank’ee little master. It do come 
from your uncle I reckon. Thank ’un kindly.” 

‘‘ No,” said Rollo, he’s brought it to you, 
but it really comes from God.” 

He ran away. The old man opened the 
little paper book with trembling fingers. He 
read, — 

Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe 
in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s 
house are many mansions; if it were not so, I 


128 


Two Tramps 


would have told you. I go to prepare a place 
for you.’’ 

‘'To think on’t,” he mused. “There be 
some ’un ready wi’ a home for I. They be 
wantin’ to be rid o’ I down here, that be truth. 
Ay, I mindeth these words. My mother did 
tell I to read ’em back along when her were 
took for death. I doth believe in God, so I 
doth ! The little lad spoke about the Lord bein’ 
brave an’ near to I. ’Twouldn’t be no harm 
puttin’ up a kind o’ prayer to ’un to ax for my 
place to be kep’ for I. ’Tis a kindly comfortin’ 
thought not to let me heart be troubled ’bout 
sich matters. So, Great Lord I herewise 
humbly speak to ’ee, an’ ax ’ee kindly to mind 
that there ’ouse for 1. I be not particklar, as 
to a mansion. ’Tis too big for I. An’ a small 
’un be more home like. An’ I ax ’ee humbly 
not to make too much ado in preparin’ for I do 
be a poor old wicked sinner, an’ I doth not 
expec’ over much an’ I’d be humbly obliged if 
’ee would teach me to pray proper. For 
Christ’s sake. Umun.” 

Rollo and his uncle were pursuing their way 
along a true Devonshire lane. The uninterest- 
ing high road was left; on either side of them 
rose banks of luxuriant green. Ferns of all 
sorts hung above them, delicate veined ivy. 


Kizzy, the Nurse 


129 


rioted amongst the moss, and wild roses and 
honeysuckle peeped out at intervals. The lane 
wound up and down in the true Devonshire 
way. Lionel was silent and abstracted. Rollo 
was busy wondering what the nurse was like, 
whether she would curtail his freedom and treat 
him like a baby, or recognise that he was of 
an age to be independent of women. At last 
he gave a heavy sigh. 

‘‘ I thought I had done with women for a 
time,’’ he said; ‘‘but we’re always meeting 
them.” 

Lionel roused himself at once. 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” he demanded 
sharply. “ Is it anything to you, whom I meet 
or speak to ? ” 

“ I was only thinking of this nurse,” an- 
swered Rollo meekly. “ I hope I shan’t find 
her a cross person.” 

Lionel’s brow cleared. He had forgotten 
the existence of the nurse; to him at present 
there was only one woman in the universe. 

“ I must find out where she lives,” he said. 
“ Her name will be a help. I should not think 
there could be many Keziah Kingcups.” 

Rollo pondered over the name. It did not 
recommend her to his favour. He was not 
sorry when that morning ride was over. 


130 


Two Tramps 


They came to a cosy little village with a 
cluster of thatched cottages crowding round an 
old grey church, whilst on the distant hills were 
substantial looking farm houses. Lionel went 
into a little general shop to make enquiries. He 
came out with a bright face. 

'‘She is here,’’ he said; "lives about half a 
mile out of the village. Come along, I have no 
time to waste, as the station is nearly two miles 
off and I want to catch the afternoon train.” 

Off they went, through the village, up an- 
other lane, across a bridge, and finally stopped 
at a picturesque old cottage nearly smothered 
in trees and creepers. Lionel went up a little 
cobble path and tapped at a half open door. 
A tall old woman appeared, and gazed at him 
with dim enquiring eyes. 

"Well Kizzy, don’t you know me?” 

A light came into her face, and she grasped 
his hand. 

" Mr. Lionel as sure as life ! Come ’ee in 
sir, an’ sit ’ee down. Eh dear, what a day! 
’Sense me tremblin’ a bit sir. Surprises be 
rayther sudden, an’ I be not so young as I 
were 1 ” 

" I want to know if you can put up my small 
nephew for a day or two, Kizzy. You remem- 
ber his mother. Miss Sybil ? ” 


Kizzy, the Nurse 




'' Eh dearie me what a day ! A boy o’ Miss 
Sybil’s, an’ I seem to see her now a rushin’ up 
to me as I were puttin’ a stitch to her weddin’ 
gown. ^ Kizzy ! ’ her says a throwin’ her arms 
roun’ me neck, ^ shall I give him up, an’ stay at 
home? I really can’t leave you all,’ her says in 
her pretty earnest way. An’ is this the little 
gentleman? Come in sir, an’ I would take 
shame on myself if I couldn’t give a bit o’ me 
roof to Miss Sybil’s son ! ” 

Dandy was led round to the back of the 
house, and Rollo found himself in a cheery 
looking kitchen with a smouldering wood fire, 
and everything immaculately clean and shining. 
Lionel explained very hurriedly that he wished 
to leave his little nephew for a couple of days 
in Keziah’s care, and she willingly agreed. 

^^You are sure to come back?” Rollo ques- 
tioned doubtfully as Lionel wished him good- 
bye. 

His uncle laughed. 

Humanly speaking I am certain to do so. 
Don’t give any trouble, and ride out with 
Dandy each day to give him exercise.” 

He was gone. Rollo sat on a wooden chair, 
feeling rather forlorn. 

Cheer up,” said Keziah standing opposite 
him, with folded arms and critical eye. That 


132 


Two Tramps 


be my maxim handed down from me grand- 
mother. You do be a little like your mother, 
sir. Now will ’ee bide here while I get a room 
upstairs ready, an’ then us must have some 
dinner. An’ it be remarkable that I’ve a hot 
little egg and bacon pasty in the oven which 
your dear mother did used to delight in.” 

Rollo was hungry, and the egg and bacon 
pasty sounded delightful. 

It isn’t so bad,” he announced to himself 
when she had disappeared. '' She isn’t quite 
a stranger. I daresay Mother was quite happy 
to be with her when she was a little girl, so I 
ought to be.” 

Keziah did not leave him long alone. She 
soon had a clean cloth spread on the deal table, 
and besides the pasty produced a plain currant 
cake, some cheese, and some ripe gooseberries. 
Rollo enjoyed his dinner, and his tongue being 
loosed, he was soon on the most confidential 
terms with this tall old woman, who chatted 
on so incessantly. 

Dinner over he went out into the yard to 
look after Dandy; then pushing open a tiny 
gate, he found himself in an orchard. Apples 
hung on every tree and bees and butterflies 
caroused in an old fashioned flower border that 
ran along the side of the orchard. 


Kizzy, the Nurse 


133 


Here half an hour later, Keziah with some 
knitting under her arm found him lying full 
length on the grass. 

Us will have a bit o’ talk again,” she said 
cheerily, pulling out an old wooden stool from 
a bed of nettles and planting herself upon it 
with great care and deliberation. ‘‘ I be fond 
o’ this spot, for it be shady most times, and the 
sun be wonderful warm to-day.” 

‘"Yes,” said Rollo; ‘‘I think I’d rather be 
here than riding along dusty roads. I wonder 
W’^hy uncle didn’t take me with him ! ” 

’Tis difficult to see into young men’s 
minds,” asserted Keziah. Mr. Lionel were 
always a strong-willed boy, and able to man- 
age his own affairs, from the day he told me 
he could part his hair straighter than what I 
did.” 

'' I’m a little afraid he may be tired of me,” 
said Rollo sitting up with his back against an 
apple tree and prepared to hold forth. You 
see he met a friend yesterday in a wood, and 
he has been a little bit — well not exactly cross 
— ^but not quite such friends with me since.” 

‘‘ Who was the friend ? ” asked Keziah with 
interest. 

‘‘ She was all in white, ^he looked very 
pretty.” 


134 


Two Tramps 


Keziah’s eyes twinkled, she nodded her head 
up and down with great vigour. 

“ I knewed it. There was that in his 
voice, in his eyes, in the way he looked 
no notice o’ nothin’, an’ in the tearin’ haste he 
departed — it all told me of his state, I’ve 
seen too many that have bin’ tooked that 
way ! ” 

“What way? Do you think he is ill? ” 

Rollo’s eyes were big with wonder. 

“ Bless ’ee, no, not ill as ’ee mean, but he be 
took with the young man’s epidemic. It do 
come sure as life to they all ! ” 

“ What is it ? ” asked Rollo in no way com- 
forted. 

“He be in love,” was the solemn emphatic 
reply. 

“ I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“No, an’ ’tis a long way off from ’ee sir, 
for which give thanks. ’Tis a terrible wearin’ 
thing. If so be as it go too smooth, ’tis bad 
for the parties concerned, they be sure to come 
to differences later, an’ if ’tis rough, an’ hedged 
up like, ’tis tryin’ to the temper an’ habits. But 
there be nothin’ to do an’ say, but just look on, 
an’ advise ’em well, an’ be patient. ’Tis no use 
whatsomever to choke or stop it. Might as 
well try to push a express train back with your 


Kizzy, the Nurse 


135 


ten fingers, or stop a river’s flow with a 
stone ! ” 

But what is it?” questioned Rollo a little 
impatiently. 

‘‘ Well, ’tis what folks feel for each other 
afore they be married. ’Tisn’t often it lasts a 
long ways afterwards. Not as a rule, Fm 
thinkin’, but I wouldn’t speak certainly on that 
score, bein’ a single woman meself, but judgin’ 
much from quick observation.” 

Is Uncle Lionel going to be married? ” 

Ay but that be too quick a way to put it, 

sir.” 

To the lady we met yesterday,” said Rollo 
a light breaking over his face, ‘‘ and he’s gone 
to see her to-day. Now I understand.” 

Keziah nodded at him with a smile, and 
knitted on in silence for a few minutes, then 
she said : ‘‘ ’Tis to be hoped she’ll be a blessin’ to 
him. Women make a man from his cradle to 
his grave! ” 

Rollo looked at her respectfully. 

‘‘ She was of course very nice, but it’s a pity 
Uncle Lionel met her. I liked him best when 
he had no woman to think of. I don’t mean to 
be rude about women. I like them sometimes, 
but not when we’re just two without them. And 
Uncle Lionel has been so quiet since yesterday. 


136 


Two Tramps 


He wouldn’t talk and laugh with me at all. Do 
you think they’re being married now ? ” 

Bless ’ee Sir, not quite so fast! ’Tis only 
a guessin’ and presumin’ us be! May be, he 
may be in love with she, an’ she with some’un 
else. ’Tis no accountin’ for tastes. ’Tis a 
strange thing after all’s said an’ done, that some 
takes such a violent fancy to some, an’ others 
thinks nothin’ at all about ’em, but ’ee can’t 
place no dependence on such a thing as love.” 

‘‘ It’s a very stupid kind of thing, I should 
think,” said Rollo gravely. 

‘‘ Well,” said Kizzy who was settling into 
one of her moralising moods. That’s as ’ee 
look at it. It takes some away from theirselves 
an’ makes ’em think of others first, an’ that be 
a good thing. To my mind, ’tis good to have 
another to please, an’ to think about. But then 
if one makes too much o’ the other, the t’other 
gets selfish, an’ pufifed up sometimes, an’ so 
what be doin’ one on ’em good, be doin’ the 
t’other harm.” 

‘‘ I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said 
Rollo with wrinkled eyebrows. 

‘'No, Sir, an’ ’tisn’t to be expec’ed ’ee should. 
Time enough yet for little lads like yourself. 
But those be some on my thoughts, an’ young 
lovers think there be no one but them in the 


Kizzy, the Nurse 


137 


whole wide world, an’ no one else don’t count 
at all, not even their fathers, an’ mothers, an’ 
brothers an’ sisters. They can all make ’em- 
selves scarce, an’ they’ll be happier for their 
absence, which is a evil state o’ things ! ” 

It means rather a wrong kind of thing,” 
admitted Rollo, but Uncle Lionel is a good 
man, and he won’t do anything that isn’t quite 
right.” 

Eh no Sir. Us won’t think of such a thing 
at all, an’ I be the last one to hold back happi- 
ness from such a nice young gentleman as he 
have grown up to be. They do say that mar- 
riages be made from Heaven, an’ if this be 
from above then God bless ’em both I say.” 

But Rollo could not amen this. He sat with 
his knees drawn up, and his chin resting on 
them, and he looked up at the summer sky as if 
his thoughts were far away. 

At last he spoke. 

It’s a pity she interrupted us. We were 
tramping together first rate. I s’pose he’d 
rather not have me any more. I wonder if 
he’d give me enough money to go on alone. 
But it would be rather dull.” 

Eh Sir, don’t ’ee be so downcast ! Mr. 
Lionel won’t forsake you. He’ll come back as 
bright as a button, sure as life he will! That 


138 


Two Tramps 


is if she’ll have him, an’ her won’t be worth 
much, if her don’t!” 

I s’pose this Love is quite a grown up thing. 
It’s one of the things with no fun in it,” Rollo 
pursued. His mind was too full of the subject 
to dismiss it lightly. 

‘‘ There are so many things that grown up 
people like doing that seem very strange and 
dull to me. Like sitting up and talking in their 
best clothes, and listening to dry lectures and 
sermons, and sitting up smoking and doing and 
saying nothing, while they do it.” 

But ’tis not a dull thing by no means,” said 
Keziah with a little laugh. It brings light 
into sad eyes, an’ smiles an’ pretty looks out 
o’ the plainest face, an’ it makes a rough man’s 
voice tender an’ soft, an’ it waxes eloquent the 
weak and timid, and ’tis a beautiful thing 
altogether when it’s the right sort.” 

Rollo sighed dejectedly; then his face bright- 
ened. 

It would make a chapter in our book, if — 
if Uncle will help me to write it. I will ask 
him when he comes back.” 

There be my best hen a crowin’ over a egg 
her’s laid I I must be off, for she do lay it in 
such outlandish places, that if I don’t get up to 
her quick, I spend my day in lookin’ for it.” 


Kizzy, the Nurse 


139 


Keziah bustled off, and Rollo followed her, 
shaking off his depression of spirits, as he did 
so, and resolving to put such a weighty and 
inexplicable matter as Love away from him 
for the present. 


XI 


ALF^ THE GIPSY 

^ ^ X T O W what ought I to do ? It’s just 
I like the picture of the Good Samar- 

^ ^ itan hung up in my little room at 
Keziah’s ; only Tm not a man, and Dandy isn’t 
a donkey, and he hasn’t been robbed.” 

Rollo’s face was a picture of dismay and per- 
plexity. He was on his pony, and was gazing 
at the recumbent figure of a lad in the ditch. 
He had been out for a ride, and was coming 
back along a lonely road, when he spied a pros- 
trate form. At first he thought he was asleep, 
but a groan brought him to a standstill. 

‘‘ What’s the matter ? Are you hurt ? ” he 
enquired. 

The lad raised his head feebly. 

be taken bad,” he moaned; cruel bad. 
I can’t get no further. I be twisted all over 
wi’ pains.’' 

‘‘ But where’s your home? ” 

Got none.” 

‘‘Where are you going? ” 

There was no reply, the lad dropped his head, 
and his groans increased. It was at this 
juncture that Rollo soliloquised with himself. 


140 


Alf, the Gipsy 


141 


Finally he got off his pony, and stood over 
the lad. 

He was a gipsy; the black curls that clustered 
over his head, the small rings in his ears, and 
a bright yellow handkerchief knotted round his 
throat proclaimed the fact. But he was a heavy 
broad-shouldered fellow, and Rollo shook his 
head hopelessly. 

I can’t lift you up,” he said ; but if you 
would try to get up yourself, and mount my 
pony, I would take you to the village I come 
from.” 

The lad opened his eyes, and Rollo had to 
repeat his invitation before he understood it. 
Then with a great effort he struggled to his 
feet and after some difficulty, and with 
many determined and ineffectual efforts on 
Rollo’s part, he hoisted himself on Dandy’s 
back. 

Rollo took hold of the bridle, and marched 
sturdily along. His thoughts were anxious 
ones. 

'' Where had I better take him ? The Bible 
said, an inn. But they wouldn’t take care of 
him for twopence at The Old Fiddler ” I’m 
sure. And I’ve only sixpence in my pocket. 
Kizzy won’t like to have him I’m afraid. I 
expect she’ll be angry with me, but it would 


142 


Two Tramps 


have been just like the priest and the Levite 
to see him there, and pass him by ! ’’ 

He at last resolved to go straight to Keziah. 

If she won’t take him in, she will tell me 
what to do with him,” he wisely thought, and 
this conclusion seemed the right one. 

Keziah met them at the gate with scared face 
and uplifted hands, but when she saw the plight 
of the gipsy lad, her woman^s heart was 
touched. 

He do look bad, as sure as life ! But 'tis 
the Infirmary he must be took to. An’ for all 
’ee can tell. Sir, he may be full o’ infection an’ 
disease. ’Tis a misfortune for ’ee to have met 
with him.” 

Rollo did not take the same view. 

Whilst they were talking, a little man came 
cantering down the road on a big black horse. 
Keziah darted out after him. 

''Doctor! Doctor Parkings! ’Tis Provi- 
dence have sent ’ee! Come in, sir, please, an’ 
have a look at this lad ! ” 

Dr. Parkings stopped, the lad was taken into 
the back kitchen, and a consultation was held 
over him. The result was highly satisfactory. 

" He has had a bad fall, but there is nothing 
fractured. You needn’t be alarmed, he isn’t 
sickening for anything.” 


Alf, the Gipsy 


H3 


‘‘ ’Twas from a haystack/’ murmured the 
lad, ‘‘but I walked a mile afore I give 
in!” 

“ Well, you will have to give in for a couple 
of days, for you have strained some muscles, 
and they must have rest. Where are your 
friends ? ” 

“ Gone on the road to Exeter.” 

“Are you tramping the country?” 

“ Ay.” 

“ I think you had better be moved to the In- 
firmary without delay.” 

“ No thank’ee, not if I know it. I’ll be 
crawlin’ on as best I can, but to them govern- 
ment places I don’t go. Never been in gaol yet, 
an’ don’t mean to go, nor yet yer ’firmaries an’ 
sich like ! ” 

He raised his head in excited protest, then 
sank back with a groan. Rollo’s thoughtful 
little voice made itself heard. 

“ Kizzy, could he have my room do you 
think? Just for one night or two. I could 
sleep on the sofa in your parlour. I should 
like to.” 

Kizzy looked at the doctor. 

“ I’m a human bein,” she said; “ an I 
tries to foller the example in the blessed 
Gospels, but I never have taken an un- 


144 


Two Tramps 


known tramp in yet, for I be a lone 
woman, an’ my little home with its vallybles 
be precious.” 

Oh Kizzy let him stay,” Rollo pleaded; 

do let him stay. I’ll look after him — Fm 
sure he would like to stay.” 

The lad raised his head again. 

‘‘ I had best be off.” 

Whether it was his dark eyes and curls — 
Kizzy said afterwards that she always had a 
weakness for black eyes and hair — or whether 
it was his helplessness, one or the other, melted 
her heart. 

My lad ye’ll stay wi’ me,” she said with de- 
cision, but it’ll be a poor reward if ye touches 
one o’ my fowls, an’ I have but one silver spoon 
in the house, an’ that be on the mantelshelf, so 
now ye know my mind, and I’ll make up a bed 
in the back kitchen, an’ there ye shall bide till 
us sees what two days’ rest an’ food will do 
for ’ee.” 

The little doctor looked dubious, but Keziah 
was now quite certain of her own mind, and 
he gave her his parting directions saying he 
would call in the next day. Rollo’s face was 
radiant, and when Keziah had made the lad 
thoroughly comfortable for the night, Rollo 
went in to see him. 


Alf, the Gipsy 


H5 


Are you feeling better now? Will you tell 
me your name? ’’ 

Alf Castle/’ 

‘‘ What a nice name? I thought you would 
like to know that I’m a kind of tramp like you 
are ! My uncle and I are tramping every day, 
but he’s gone away for two days and left me 
here. I wonder if I hadn’t seen you, who would 
have come along?” 

Alf looked brighter and better already. He 
lay gazing at Rollo with a spark of humour in 
his eye. 

And where be ye goin’ ? ” he demanded. 

No where — we just go on every day, and 
we meet with fresh people, and then we leave 
them, and go on to others. Isn’t it a wonder 
to have such millions of people living and not 
know about them ? I should never have known 
you if I hadn’t gone down that lane to-day. 
But I think Jesus made me go there.” 

Ye be a rum ’un! ” 

Well you see it’s like this. Jesus Christ is 
with us. He comes along wherever we go, an’ 
I s’pose He knew you were wanting somebody 
to find you, so He made me do it.” 

Alf stared at him in wonder. Rollo’s talk 
drifted on, and soon Alf was feeling well 
enough to enjoy relating some of his experi- 


146 


Two Tramps 


ences. They were very good friends, before 
Rollons bedtime came. 

The next morning a letter arrived from 
Lionel saying he would not be returning till a 
day later. And Rollo did not feel this as great 
a disappointment as he would have done twenty- 
four hours previously. 

Keziah sent him out for a ride in the morn- 
ing saying grimly as she watched him down 
the lane, — 

It will be as well to pick up no more 
strangers, for I couldn’t put ’em up ! ” 

Clouds were rolling up for rain, and in the 
afternoon, it came down with a steady soft per- 
sistence. Rollo settled himself down in the 
back kitchen with great satisfaction. 

Alf was already sitting up, and looking with 
longing eyes through the little window at the 
green country outside. 

I should die straight away, if I lived under 
a roof like this ’ere ! ” 

Would you? ” asked Rollo with a look of 
alarm. ‘'Do you think it’s hurting you? Tell 
me again how you like to live. I love to hear 
it. It sounds so wild and free.’^ 

So Alf dilated on the woods and forests that 
he loved, the heather-covered moor, and the 
rugged hills ; he spoke of animals and birds that 


Alf, the Gipsy 


147 


were as yet unknown to the eager boy at his 
side; of waterfalls, and glens, and ruddy fires 
by night, and as he listened, Rollo drew deep 
breaths of delight. 

I wish — I wish I had been born a gipsy. I 
can’t help thinking sometimes that our tramp 
is rather quiet and dull. I thought we should 
meet with so many adventures, robbers, and 
highwaymen, and wild beasts, but Devonshire 
seems a very tame place. I should really like 
to meet with a highwayman on a horse; a real 
one with a mask and a pistol, just when it’s 
getting dark, or a brigand who would hide us 
in a cave up a mountain. That would be the 
best fun. Have you ever seen one? Do you 
think we might possibly meet with one before 
I go back to London ? ” 

Alf proceeded to tell with much animation 
how a Dartmoor convict had come to them for 
shelter once, and how successfully they had 
hidden him, until he was able to get shipped 
ofif to America. His escapes were hairbreadth 
ones, and Rollo listened with round eyes and 
mouth. 

I’m so glad he escaped,” he exclaimed. 
It must be so dreadful to be hunted as if you 
were an animal.” 

Yer wouldn’t give a chap up, would ’ee 


148 


Two Tramps 


now, if the coves were arter him wi’ hand- 
cuffs/’ 

''No never/’ said Rollo stoutly. 

Alf looked at him curiously then he lowered 
his voice. 

" See here young ’un. There may be some 
fellers arter me — quite a mistake ye know. 
Folks is cruel misjudges. Some on us had a 
bit o’ spite ’gainst a farmer who turned us off 
a waste bit o’ his land that weren’t fit fur pigs 
to grunt on ! An’ us sarved he right, for two 
on his ricks were cotched on fire, and there was 
a hullabeloo! I were on the top o’ one when 
I got me fall, and the t’other made off just 
afore the farmer came up.” 

" But what were you doing on the top of the 
rick? asked Rollo. 

" A tryin’ to put it out yer stoopid o’ course ! 
An’ I crawled through a hedge an’ ran for me 
life until the pain grew worse an’ worse, an’ 
down I fell, just like a log. But ’tis ten chances 
to one if that there farmer don’t try to nab me, 
for he saw me fall, an’ likely thought I was up 
to no good. Folks is that suspicious ! ” 

" But you could easily explain to him that 
you were trying to put the fire out,” said Rollo. 
" And I don’t think he’ll know where to find 
you, so you needn’t be afraid.” 


Alf, the Gipsy 


149 


If he do come pokin’ round, swear that ye 
won’t tell on me! ” 

‘‘ I don’t know how to swear,” said Rollo 
naively : I never learnt. I don’t think I 
ought to, ought I? But I won’t let him 
in here.” 

The very next morning Rollo’s fidelity to 
his new friend was put to the test. Keziah 
went out and left the boys together. They 
were talking about stag hunting on Exmoor, 
and Alf was making Rollo’s eyes dilate at the 
description of a run in which the stag had got 
the better of his pursuers, when a sharp knock 
on the outer door made them start. 

Alf cowered underneath the bed-clothes. 

‘‘ Now young ’un, mind yer oath ! ” he whis- 
pered. 

Rollo ran out into the front kitchen, and 
with some trepidation opened the door. 

A tall burly looking man stood outside. 

Be this Mrs. Keziah Kingcup’s ? ” 

She is away,” said Rollo sturdily. 

A’ve bin told her hath tooked in a gipsy 
rascal, an’ ’a be come to track ’un out. He be 
a proper scoundrel, an’ to gaol he goeth, for 
three o’ me best ricks be destroyed, an’ a seed 
’un doin’ ’un, a seed ’un wi’ his yeller kerchief, 
an’ ’a hath gotted a bit o’ the yeller, torn by the 


Two Tramps 


150 


hedge that he crept through. A be goin’ to 
track ’un sure enough. Where be ’un ? Stand 
aside little master. A be cornin’ in.” 

Then with a flush on his cheek and a light in 
his eye Rollo rose to the occasion. Before the 
farmer could know what he was going to do, 
he slammed the door in his face and locked it. 
Then running upstairs to his little bedroom, he 
put his head out of the window. 

Tm sorry to be rude, Mr. Farmer, but 
Kizzy is out, and she wouldn’t like strange men 
coming into her house. You must go away. 
There’s nobody here that ought to be in gaol. 
Go away.” 

The farmer shook his fist in anger. 

Don’t ye play no tricks on a! Ye will be 
for defyin’ the law will ye ? A be goin’ straight 
to the policeman an’ then we shall see if ye be 
slammin’ the door in his face. If Mrs. King- 
cup be hidin’ a gaol-bird, her will be reckoned 
wiM” 

He strode down the lane with muttered 
oaths, and Rollo trembled as he looked after 
him. Then shutting the window he stole down 
to Alf. He found him struggling into his 
clothes with feverish haste. 

He has gone off, Alf,” said Rollo excitedly; 
^^but he is coming back with a policeman. I 


Alf, the Gipsy 


151 


wish Kizzy would come home. What shall we 
do?” 

‘‘ He won’t catch me ! ” said Alf with a little 
laugh, and a catch in his breath. 

‘‘ But I should let him come in, and then 
explain that you were trying to put the fire 
out,” urged Rollo. 

‘‘ Hark’ee,” said Alf impatiently. ‘‘ When 
they comes back, keep ’em waitin’ as long as 
’ee can. Tell ’em as many crams as ’ee can 
make up. Talk to ’em out o’ the windy, an’ 
tell ’em the key have stuck in the door, an’ ’ee 
can’t Open ’un no how wi’out a blacksmith. 
Then tell ’em that I be mortal bad, an’ the doc- 
tor did say it might be small-pox. By’m bye 
let ’em in very soft. They’ll find me in bed sure 
enough ! ” 

He gave a little chuckling laugh. 

But,” said Rollo slowly, '' I can’t tell lies, 
Alf. I’ll do anything else. I think I can man- 
age him quite as well without lies. I’ll do my 
very best for you. It’s very exciting, isn’t it? ” 

‘‘ Go on upstairs an’ keep watch out o’ the 
windy,” said Alf gruffly, with difficulty sup- 
pressing a groan; ‘‘ this pain be cruel bad ! ’Tis 
a cryin’ shame to hound a poor innercent lad 
out o’ his sick bed. Go on will ’ee, don’t crawl 
like a twoad! ” 


152 


Two Tramps 


Rollo dashed upstairs obediently. He 
opened the window, and waited patiently but 
half an hour passed by before any one appeared. 
Then alas! It was not Kizzy, but the fanner, 
with a policeman as stalwart and strong as him- 
self. 

“ Oh dear I ” sighed poor Rollo. “ I must 
do what a policeman tells me, whatever it is. I 
daren’t say no to him or I shall be put into 
prison. What shall I do? If I don’t speak to 
them I expect they will break the door open.” 

For a moment he was quite paralysed, and 
gazed down upon them with a white and speech- 
less face. 

The policeman looked up at him with a 
broad smile. 

“ Good arternoon, Sir. Us must trouble you 
to open the door. Be Keziah at home? Her 
be a real good sort, an’ ’twas a womanly thing 
to do arter all said an’ done. But gypsies be 
always scoundrels. Come ’ee down sir an’ open 
the door perlite like.” 

“ It isn’t polite to come into Kizzy’s house 
when she is away,” said Rollo pursing up his 
mouth for a whistle, a sign that he was “ feel- 
ing a bit shaky 1 ” 

Then a sudden inspiration seized him. 

“ Mr. Policeman, won’t you go to her, and 


Alf, the Gipsy 


153 


ask her what you want to know. She went up 
to the Squire’s to take some eggs. Fm sure 
she would like that best. She told me the other 
day not to let any one in when she was out. I 
remember she said that one day a pedlar came, 
and he wasn’t a pedlar at all, he was — ” 

“ You come down this minit’ or I’ll give ee 
a good thrashin’ when I sees ’ee,” shouted the 
farmer. 

Rollo’s face looked very white and deter- 
mined. 

I won’t come down to be thrashed,” he 
said; and a spice of boyish mischief stole into 
his eyes. ‘‘ I would rather stay up here thank 
you. It would be much more comfortable.” 

'' Come young master,” said the smiling po- 
liceman ; us only does want a word wi’ the 
chap that is ill. I make so bold as to say that 
Mr. Ruttaway here may be mistaken, an’ it 
ain’t the feller he be lookin’ for at all. Just 
one word wi’ ’un will do the job. Us wouldn’t 
be that cruel to drag a poor sick lad off his bed, 
an’ take him off wi’out a word. Come ’ee down 
sir like a little gentleman an’ open the door to 
us, an’ I’ll see Mr. Ruttaway don’t lay his 
finger on ’ee. ’Tis only his manner o’ talkin’ ! 

Rollo wavered, a little longer he parleyed, 
then very slowly and sadly descended the stairs. 


154 


Two Tramps 


‘‘ It’s no good, Alf,” he cried in a whisper, 

they’re coming in, and I won’t tell them 
where you are.” 

A minute after and he opened the door. The 
farmer marched in triumphantly, and seeing 
the kitchen was empty went straight upstairs, 
calling to the policeman to follow him. He 
did so and Rollo darted into the back kitchen. 

‘‘ Alf ! ” he whispered. 

Alf was in bed again, his yellow handker- 
chief round his throat just showing above the 
sheet, but his head was hidden, and he lay as 
still as death. 

'' Oh, Alf, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t keep 
them out.” 

Alf made no reply, and he ran out just as 
they came downstairs. 

As a last resource Rollo stood in front of 
the farmer. 

You’ll be sorry when you see how ill he is, 
and he didn’t do it, he told me he didn’t ! ” 

Where is the rascal ? ” asked the farmer, 
and with one stride he was in the back kitchen. 

He paused when he saw the form under the 
bedclothes. 

Be he shammin’ ? Or be he very ill ? ” 

Rollo did not answer. He was wondering at 
Alf’s strange silence. 


Alf, the Gipsy 


155 


‘‘ Come my lad, this ’ere gent wants to have 
a word wi’ yer. Lift up your head and answer 
his questions.” 

‘‘ There be no questions that a be goin’ to 
spake,” said the farmer impatiently, an’ that 
be his yeller kerchief. What do you think o’ 
this as a match now, policeman? ” 

He drew out of his pocket a scrap of yellow 
that was identically the same in colour and 
texture as that round Alf’s throat. 

The policeman bent over the bed with a 
puzzled look, then astonished Rollo by rapidly 
seizing hold of the bedclothes and turning 
them back. 

The farmer uttered an angry oath. 

A long broom enveloped in blankets with the 
yellow handkerchief tied round its head, was 
the quiet occupant of Alf’s bed. 

And Alf had successfully made his escape. 
There was no sign of him anywhere. 


XII 


MISS GREENING, THE LODGER 

R OLLO was questioned and cross-ques- 
tioned, but he was innocent of the 
trick which the farmer imputed at 
once to him. And happily Keziah’s return 
shielded him from any more unpleasantness. 
She rounded on the farmer as a woman of her 
calibre could do, and finally he and the police- 
man walked away discomfited. 

What do I care for your hay ricks ! If the 
poor lad had been guilty of murder, is that a 
reason for you comin^ an’ tryin’ to drag him 
off a sick bed, an’ frighten him out of the house 
an’ roof that has been shelterin’ him these days ! 
An’ if he be found stone dead on the hard high 
road, ’tis you, an’ the likes o’ you that have 
driven him to his death ! ” 

When they were gone Rollo turned breath- 
lessly to her. 

Do you think he is really gone Kizzy? It 
was very clever of him to do that. Don’t you 
think he may be hiding somewhere ? ” 

No, I think he be well away from this part 
by now. The doctor said yesterday he would 
156 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 


157 


be soon on his legs again, but I didn’t think 
how soon.” 

Kizzy gave a sigh, then dismissed him from 
her mind, and went out amongst her beloved 
fowls. A minute later she called to Rollo, 

Where be your pony, sir ? ’’ 

In the stable. I fed him just before the 
farmer came.'’ 

He bain't there, nor yet in the orchard.” 

Rollo ran out. Dandy, and Dandy's saddle 
and bridle had both disappeared. Keziah shook 
her head in dismay. 

That Alf has taken him, I fears he be no 
good at all ! Small wonner they couldn't catch 
sight of him if he were on the pony's back. 
Now what shall I say to Mr. Lionel? What 
shall I do!” 

But I'm sure Alf will bring it back, I'm 
sure he will. You see he couldn't walk very 
well. He only borrowed it. Oh, I'm sure he is 
not a wicked boy. He wouldn't be a thief ! ” 

Keziah shook her head gloomily. 

Gypsies be trained to be thieves. They be 
born an' bred in horse stealin', an' fowl stealin’, 
an' poachin' an' sich like. 'Tis their natur', 
they can't help theirsels. I'm sorry I left the 
house.” 

But Rollo stoutly defended his absent friend. 


158 


Two Tramps 


and when Lionel appeared late that day, and 
the story was told to him, even his scepticism as 
to Alt’s innocence, did not shake the little boy’s 
trust in the gypsy lad. 

Lionel came back in bright spirits. He was 
vexed at Dandy’s disappearance, and went to 
the police station the next day about it. He 
advertised his loss in a local paper, but it did 
not seem to trouble him as much as his old 
nurse feared it would do. 

“ He was only hired, and now I shall have 
to pay full price for him, and how to go on I 
know not ! ” 

“ Oh do let me walk,” pleaded Rollo. “ I’m 
sure I could walk a lot more than I do. Do try 
me. I feel so strong and well, and I haven’t 
had a headache for ages.” 

“Very well, you shall. We will do our 
tramp in very easy stages. After all, it is only 
air and sunshine that we are seeking.” 

They left Keziah’s the next day. She 
watched them depart very wistfully. 

“ Have you no news to tell your old nurse, 
Mr. Lionel ? ” she said when the moment of 
parting had come. 

He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. 

“ Not yet Kizzy, but I promise to write if I 
have any that would interest you.” 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 159 


‘‘ And Kizzy/' said Rollo as he put his small 
hand in hers, “ Give Alf my love when he brings 
my pony back. Fm quite sure he will. And tell 
him I’m looking out for him along the road.” 

She nodded and smiled to him, then went 
back to her lonely cottage and wiped a tear off 
her cheek with the corner of her apron. 

Bless his little trustin’ heart. He don’t 
doubt no one nor nothin’, and hath that faith 
an’ feelin’ o’ livin’ wi’ the Lord close to him, 
that it makes I right ’shamed of my wicked 
unbelief ! ” 

Away through the little village walked uncle 
and nephew, climbing up hills very slowly, de- 
scending to cool shady lanes, and a grey rush- 
ing river. They had a substantial lunch at a 
wayside inn, then began to ascend a wide stretch 
of moor. The air grew cool and invigorating. 
When they at last came to the level, and saw 
miles of heather and granite, interspersed with 
yellow gorse, and blue and purple tors in the 
distance, Lionel bared his head and drew a long 
satisfied sigh. 

Now we will enjoy a rest,” he announced. 

We will stay here for a couple of hours.” 

He cast himself down on the ground in the 
shade of a pile of stones. Rollo sat down con- 
tentedly by his side. 


i6o 


Two Tramps 


‘‘ I s'pose you’ll have a smoke and a sleep/’ 
he said. 

‘‘ I don’t know about sleep,” said Lionel as 
he lazily filled his pipe; do you object? ” 

‘‘ I would like a little talk,” said Rollo 
modestly. 

Talk, you voracious youngster ? What else 
have we been doing for the six or seven hours 
we have spent already of this day?” 

Yes,, but that has been of things we were 
passing,” said Rollo wrinkling his brow. I 
want a real talk now.” 

‘‘ I will give you twenty minutes ! Fire 
ahead ! ” 

‘‘ I was wondering about Alf. I wish I had 
said good-bye to him. I hoped you would have 
come back and given him a message. I think 
he would have liked one.” 

'Touldn’t you have given him one? ” 

No,” said Rollo doubtfully. I shouldn’t 
have known what to say. He laughed when I 
said things sometimes. I remember you said 
every one we met ought to give us a message 
or get one. I would rather get messages than 
give them. I’m too small to be a messeng^.” 

We aren’t told how old Samuel was, but I 
fancy he was rather a small chap,” said Lionel 
slowly. 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 


i6i 


‘‘ And then I don’t carry any about with 
me,” said Rollo. 

No, and I won’t give you any of mine. I 
don’t want to turn you into a man before your 
time. You would be better for a little less medi- 
tation and more play, that is the disadvantage 
of being in my company so much. Don’t bother 
your head about messages. Let your life tell 
whose you are and whom you serve. And if 
your heart is filled as it ought to be, it will 
overflow, and the parched ground will be so 
much the better for the droppings.” 

Lionel did not often preach.” But every 
word he uttered was treasured up by his 
small nephew, who pondered over many 
things. 

He lay down on the heather now, and 
watched, the larks and bees and butterflies, as 
they passed to and fro. 

Presently he spoke again. 

You know our book that we’re going to 
write? ” 

Any more ideas ? ” 

Yes,” Rollo said slowly; I think we must 
have a chapter about ‘ Love.’ ” 

Lionel almost dropped his pipe out of his 
mouth with the sudden start he gave. 

But he recovered himself in an instant. 


i 62 


Two Tramps 


'' A very large theme. Universal love per- 
haps? Love of our Creator, our race, our 
brother man?” 

Rollo brought his wonderful blue eyes 
steadily upon his uncle’s face. 

No,” he said simply. Kizzy and I were 
talking it over in her orchard. She said it was 
the way young men were took. She called it 
a long name — an epi — something ! ” 

Upon my word you’re beginning early. Go 
on, and tell me more of this interesting con- 
versation.” 

'' It comes to people before they get married, 
Kizzy said, and she said sometimes it was bad 
for people and sometimes it was good for them. 
She made it out very nice on the whole I think, 
but I waited till I could talk it over with you, 
for I knew you would explain it best.” 

Lionel looked away over the heather in si- 
lence for a minute. 

'' Yes we must have a chapter on Love,” he 
said a little dreamily, love is to life what 
poetry is to prose, what the sunshine is to 
flowers, what the spring is to the hard dry bud- 
ding trees. It is the one bit of Eden that God 
has left in the world, and that can be kept pure 
and sweet and good.” 

Then Rollo came to business. 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 


163 


Would you rather have her with you tlian 
me?’^ 

Lionel looked at the boy sternly. 

'' I don’t think you mean to be impertinent/’ 
he said. 

“ Oh indeed I don’t/’ was Rollo’s quick re- 
sponse; ‘‘but I told Kizzy about her, and we 
thought — at least I did — that you might be 
getting tired of me. I don’t want you to be, 
and she looked so beautiful, and — ^please don’t 
look at me like that, I don’t mean to be rude, 
but I do want to know all about her.” 

You want to know a great deal too much,” 
was the crushing reply. 

Rollo’s head dropped. He was silent 

With the strange inconsistency that some- 
times seizes a young man, Lionel was a few 
minutes afterwards giving his nephew a full 
account of his lady love, her family, her cir- 
cumstances and last but not least, her perfec- 
tions. 

The boy listened with eager interest. It 
sounded like a fairy tale to him. 

And Lionel under the glamour of the moor- 
land air and sunshine, the still lovely loveliness 
of heather tors, and the fresh sweet sympathy 
of a child, spoke out of his heart’s depths, and 
left the indelible impression upon his nephew’s 


164 


Two Tramps 


brain that love — true love was the pivot on 
which the whole wide world was turned. 

Time slipped by, and shadows began to creq) 
across the blue tors. 

Lionel roused himself. 

‘‘We must be walking on,’’ he said; “we 
have two miles of heather, and then there is our 
farmhouse where I want to stop the night.” 

So away they trudged, the fresh moor breeze 
exhilarating and quickening their steps. 

“ I think I can walk better than ride,” said 
Rollo; “ I don’t feel a bit tired.” 

But he was glad enough when the farmhouse 
was reached. 

“ I have heard you take lodgers,” Lionel said 
when the door was opened by a rosy cheeked 
young woman. “ Can you find room for us 
to-night? ” 

“ Oh yes Sir,” she responded. “ We have 
no one with us at present except an old lady. 
Would you like to see the rooms that are va- 
cant ? ” 

The farm house had originally been an old 
Manor; the entrance was a lofty stone-flagged 
hall, with an oak staircase at the farther end. 
She opened one of the many rooms that led 
out of this, and they found themselves in an 
old oak-wainscoted room with deep window 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 165 


seats, and a large square table in the centre of 
it The furniture looked poor and meagre in 
the handsome room, but everything was clean 
and neat. An old fashioned sideboard, a horse- 
hair sofa, six chairs ranged with their backs 
against the wall, and two arm chairs were all 
that was in it. 

Lionel walked to the window and looked 
out, then ordered tea, and Rollo curled himself 
up on the sofa. 

I do like this,” he remarked ; ‘‘ we haven’t 
been in a house like this before, have we? Do 
you think I could go all over it after tea ? ” 

I dare say,” replied Lionel absently. 

Their meal was a substantial one. The farm- 
er’s wife sent them in a large dish of broiled 
trout freshly caught in the river that day; 
boiled eggs, cold ham, honey, a dish of water- 
cress, and a large currant loaf also graced their 
board, besides a plentiful supply of bread and 
butter and cream. 

When it was over, Lionel sauntered out into 
the garden, Rollo ran upstairs to look at their 
bedrooms. 

He had a dressing-room opening out of a 
large one. There was a long corridor with 
rooms on each side, and he peeped into several, 
with boyish curiosity. But as his head was 


i66 


Two Tramps 


round the corner of one, he was startled by a 
voice. 

Now little boy, what are you doing here? 
Do you know that you are peeping into my 
room ? 

He turned round and saw behind him a tall 
old lady in a very large mushroom hat and yel- 
low leather gloves. 

I beg your pardon,’’ he said confusedly. 

I’ve only just come, and I was looking about 
me. 

'' I don’t suppose my room is different to 
your own, but you can come in if you like. 
Come in and wipe your shoes on the mat. I 
have been into the garden, and have been driven 
in by a man’s pipe. Does he belong to you? 
Ah my dear, don’t you ever smoke, it is an 
uncleanly pernicious habit, and I’m quite sure 
Adam wouldn’t have been allowed to do so in 
the garden of Eden. If he was happy without 
it, why shouldn’t the young men of to-day be 
the same?” 

Rollo did not know what to say, but he fell 
in love with the old lady on the spot, and looked 
about her quaint room with the greatest in- 
terest. A little fire burned in the grate, and 
though it was in the height of summer, it did 
not seem out of place for the sun had gone 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 


167 


down, and the room was a large one. A Per- 
sian cat lay before the fire, and in one of the 
large windows was a cage with two small owls. 
There was an easel with an unfinished painting 
upon it, and the rest of the room was littered 
with books and papers. Newspapers seemed to 
be on every chair in the room, and there was 
a great pile of them on the floor behind the 
door. 

The old lady went to a cupboard. 

‘‘ Don’t think I am old Mother Hubbard,” 
she said with a twinkle in her eye, ‘‘ because I 
have got a cupboard. I have some cake here, 
and boys always like cake. Now sit down on 
that chair, don’t make crumbs, and tell me who 
you are.” 

Rollo promptly obeyed, and she stood look- 
ing at him as he spoke, with her hands resting 
on her hips. 

‘‘Dear me, how unique! Now why cannot 
I manage to find some one to tramp with ! I 
should dearly like to see the country, and then 
I should come home and write a book upon it.” 

“ That’s what we mean to do,” Rollo said 
confidentially; “ do you write books? ” 

“ There is nothing,” said the old lady with a 
little laugh, “that I don’t attempt to do. I 
paint, I write, I work, I garden, I botanise, I 


i68 


Two Tramps 


read, and a host of other things besides. I had 
a mother once, and she was the only one of 
seven sisters who died a happy old woman. 
She had a full life and she gloried in it. She 
lived for others, her sisters lived for them- 
selves. They were wretched in body, soul and 
spirit, and died as they lived. Now I am quite 
alone and I haven’t a relation in the world, and 
yet I mustn’t say that, for I look upon the whole 
human race as my sisters and brothers. I try 
to work for those that cannot work for them- 
selves. What are you doing in that way ? ” 

'Rollo looked startled. “ I’m afraid I don’t 
quite understand,” he said. 

“ Are you living for self or for others ? ” 

“ I s’pose I’m living because God wants me 
to,” said Rollo with a wrinkled brow. 

The old lady smiled. 

“ Ah well,” she said, “ we mustn’t expect old 
heads on young shoulders. You have to grow 
at present, and that’s a trying process some- 
times.” 

“ But I can’t make myself grow,” said Rollo 
wonderingly. 

“ You can obey the laws for growth. Take 
exercise, good food, and inhale pure air, and 
if you do the same for your soul as for your 
body your inner and outer man will prosper.” 


Miss Greening, the Lodger 


169 


Rollo thought this was strange talk, but he 
was interested. 

‘‘ It’s funny about growing,” he said medi- 
tatively, ‘‘ you never see it being done, but I 
s’pose you always grow when you’re asleep. 
The flowers never move all day, for I’ve 
watched them, and yet they get bigger and 
bigger and puppies and kittens are just the 
same. They grow into dogs and cats, and yet 
you never see them doing it.” 

The old lady nodded. 

‘‘ It’s just the same with your inner man. If 
is the same silent growth, and the person who 
ought to know least about it is yourself.” 

‘‘Why?” asked Rollo. 

“ Because we have naturally such a lot of 
pride and self-conceit about us that the less we 
think about ourselves the better.” 

“ You have quite done growing,” said Rollo 
looking at his new friend with great respect. 

“ My body has done growing, and is doing 
the other thing at present.” 

“ What is that? ” 

“ Shrinking to be sure. All old people get 
smaller as they get older, but I hope I’m still 
growing in other ways.” 

“And how do you give your soul food?” 
asked Rollo. 


Two Tramps 


170 


The old lady put her hand reverently on a 
Bible that was near her. This is my pantry 
or store house/’ she said quaintly. ‘‘ I find 
plain wholesome food, exhilarating tonics, and 
medicine when I require it. Sweets and bitters, 
but all making and helping growth.” 

And you said exercise?” 

Yes I did. You must use your body if you 
want it to work well, you must exercise faith, 
and trust, love and hope, if your soul is to 
grow. Those are its limbs. Faith and obedi- 
ence the hands. One to take, one to act. Trust 
and belief the feet, standing firm on the right 
foundation. Hope the eyes, love the heart and 
mouth.” 

‘‘ That sounds very difficult,” murmured 
Rollo. And do you give your soul pure air ? ” 
Ah the question of atmosphere, is a most 
important one.” 

The old lady paused, then put her head out 
of the window, and looked up into the blue sky. 

Nothing and no one between you and the 
sun,” she said solemnly, when she drew her 
head back. Now is there anything else you 
would like to know?” 

‘'No thank you,” said Rollo slowly. “ I 
think I had better go back to my uncle.” 


XIII 


THE HIGHWAYMAN 

R OLLO heard a little more about their 
fellow lodger from the farmer’s wife 
who came up to see him when he 
was in bed. 

I always do think/’ she said after asking 
him if he was quite comfortable, that a boy 
do want a woman to look to him. My boys do, 
an’ you be very small to go about by yoursel’. 
Miss Greening, our lady lodger, her said to me 
just now, ‘ Mrs. Williams,’ her said, ‘ look well 
to the wants of the little fellow, his head works 
very fast for its size.’ ” 

‘‘ Tell me about Miss Greening,” said Rollo, 
who always felt guilty of something wrong, 
when his head was discussed, though he did 
not quite see where the fault lay. 

Her be a very good woman. Miss Greening 
be — though rayther peculiar. I reckon that her 
have plenty o’ money, but her gives it all away. 
Her selleth her bits o’ paintin’s, an’ sendeth it 
to orphans an’ such like. Her doth beautiful 
bits o’ needlework, but it do all get sent away 
to needy fam’lies; her sendeth her flowers up 
171 


172 


Two Tramps 


to London hospitals; an’ did you see all her 
newspapers? Her be a great reader, but if her 
seeth in ’em a sad accident an’ widder an’ 
orphans left, her goeth straight to post office 
an’ sendeth off a bit o’ money to the parson o’ 
their parish for ’em. Her be a wonnerful char- 
itable lady.” 

I should like to stay here several days,” 
said Rollo the next morning at breakfast. 

Lionel did not answer him for a minute or 
two. He was absorbed in a letter. Rollo eyed 
it in dismay, for there were several closely 
written sheets, and he was longing to talk. 

At last with a smile, Lionel put it into his 
pocket and spoke. 

'' Did you say you wanted to stay longer 
here ? We can’t do that. As it is, we are tak- 
ing very easy marches. We shall still have a 
bit of moor to walk over to-day, so we will 
start early, for there will be no shade and we 
shall find it very warm.” 

Do you think I might go up stairs and wish 
Miss Greening good-bye? ” 

Is that your friend of last night ? Be quick 
then, while I pay my bill, and then we must be 
off.” 

Rollo dashed upstairs and knocked very ' 
gently at Miss Greening’s door. There was no 


The Highwayman 


173 


answer, and after waiting some minutes, he 
opened the door very quietly. There was no 
one there, and he rejoined Lionel with a 
troubled look on his face. 

‘‘ I can't find her — I don't like tramping in 
a hurry. I hadn't finished knowing her." 

How long does that take ? " asked his 
uncle. 

‘‘Well, I always take one day to begin, some 
people are quick to know. Tm sure I should 
have finished her in a few days." 

“Very flattering," said a voice behind.^ He 
was standing talking to Lionel on the stone 
terrace outside the hall door,, and turning 
quickly, he saw Miss Greening with her hands 
full of roses close to him. 

The pink colour came into his cheeks, but he 
was not aware he had said anything peculiar. 

He put out his small hand. 

“ I did want to say good-bye to you," he 
said. “ We are going away, that is the worst 
of being tramps, you have to say good-bye to 
somebody every day." 

She astonished him by stooping down and 
kissing him. 

“ Don't forget to grow," she said. “ Re- 
member — food, air, exercise! God bless 
you I " 


174 


Two Tramps 


She darted indoors, and with a wistful look 
after her, Rollo followed his uncle down the 
drive and out on the moor. 

Their walk was a quiet one that morning. 
They stopped to have lunch by the side of a 
small stream. Lionel sat down and began to 
write, and Rollo amused himself by taking off 
his shoes and stockings and wading in the 
stream. After an hour’s rest they started again 
and were soon following a winding hilly lane 
that wound up and down in a most bewildering 
manner. The air seemed close and sultry, 
heavy clouds rolled up„ and soon distant rum- 
bles of thunder proclaimed a coming storm. 
They hastened their steps, and to Lioners re- 
lief they came to the inn which was their goal, 
before the storm burst upon them. 

In a dingy parlour Rollo knelt on a chair by 
the window, and watched the lightning play 
on the distant hills; dark masses of clouds 
seemed to roll backwards and forwards and the 
claps of thunder were loud and incessant. 

He had no fear in watching it, and at last 
turned round to Lionel who was deep in his 
favourite map. 

I used to think,” he remarked; ^‘that light- 
ning was a climb into heaven, just a hole 
through, you know, which would show you 


The Highwayman 


175 


things if it only stayed long enough; I s’pose 
it isn’t, but I should like to be closer up to it 
all. In a balloon, it would be grand ! ” 

There wouldn’t be much of you left if you 
were,” said Lionel dryly. 

Rollo left the window and curled himself up 
in an easy chair. 

Can we have a talk? ” he asked. 

‘‘Go ahead.” 

“ I haven’t had time to tell you yet what Miss 
Greening said to me. I thought if we talked 
it out, we could put it into our book.” 

“ What’s the subject?” 

“ Growing.” 

“ Humph!” 

“ Everybody growing,” said Rollo hastily, 
“ and growing inside and out, and doing things 
to make yourself grow, and then not wanting 
to find out whether you’re big or little, but let- 
ting other people do that.” 

“That sounds sensible,” said Lionel dryly. 
“ Go on.” 

“You must never expect to see your soul 
grow any more than you do your body,” went 
on Rollo, with the far away look in his eyes 
that his uncle loved to see there. “ Do you 
think we grow as fast inside as out ? ” 

“ I think you do,” responded his uncle with 


176 


Two Tramps 


a smile. Some people’s souls don’t grow at 
all. And some shrink away to nothing. I 
believe bodies hinder souls from growing a 
good deal.” 

‘‘ I s’pose,” said Rollo gravely, '' you don’t 
have to grow any more when we get to Heaven. 
Everything is finished there.” 

'' Not at all,” said his uncle. '' I think we 
shall all do a lot of growing there. It is only 
the beginning of knowledge that we get in this 
life.” 

I think we might have a lot about flowers 
growing, and animals, as well as people in our 
chapter, shall we? ” 

Evolution,” muttered Lionel. The long 
word was lost upon Rollo. 

And Miss Greening said we must eat and 
drink with our souls, and give them exercise 
and good air.” 

Talk was interrupted by their evening meal 
appearing, and Rollo’s thoughts became en- 
grossed in supplying the needs of his body. 

The storm went on at intervals till bedtime 
came. As Rollo was going up the narrow little 
staircase leading to his room, he was startled 
by seeing the figure of a girl crouched down 
in a corner, sobs shaking her frame. 

What’s the matter ? ” he asked. 


The Highwayman 


177 


Oh/' sobbed the girl raising a frightened 
tear-stained, and rather grimy face. '' I be so 
wisht an' scared, I be fit to die ! This thunder 
do properly shake me innerds all to pieces, an' 
now it be dark, it be terrible ! " 

‘‘Are you frightened of the storm? Why 
don't you go to your mother? " 

“ I have no mother nor nothin’, I be missus' 
maid, an' I be workin' in the kitchen from morn 
to night. Missus be cruel to me, her pulled out 
the knives I did hide away, an’ her laughed, an' 
sent me to bed when I cried." 

“ Why are you frightened? " asked Rollo. 

“ Oh, I be dreadful scared ! it will kill me 
like it did my aunt's cousin! Her was found 
wi' her face all black an' streaky a sittin' on a 
wooden bench, just as her had satted down, 
an’ her ’brella were split into fifty bits o’ rib- 
bon!" 

She gave a little stifled shriek, as a flash of 
lightning illumined her hiding place. 

“ I think you’d better ask God to take care 
of you, and then you needn’t be frightened," 
said Rollo, looking at her thoughtfully. “ Of 
course it isn’t very nice to be killed, and have 
your face black and streaky, but I don’t 
think that happens to many people. Tell 
God you would rather not die that way. 


178 


Two Tramps 


and Tm quite sure He’ll manage that you 
don’t!” 

The girl stared at him. 

Rollo went on, earnestly determined to com- 
fort her, 

I’m not afraid of storms. I like them, but 
there’s one thing that I don’t like to think of, 
and that is of being burnt up in a fire. I’ve 
seen fires in London, and there was a boy our 
cook knew who was burnt to a cinder. It must 
be so dreadfully painful. I’ve asked God to be 
so good as to see that I don’t get killed that 
way, and I’m quite positive certain that He 
won’t let me be.” 

‘‘ I can’t make a prayer,” admitted the poor 
girl, though a gleam of light and hope came to 
her dull blue eyes. 

Oh yes, you can. It’s only speaking. And 
you needn’t speak out loud.” 

But God won’t listen to the likes o’ me.” 

He hears everybody who speaks to 
Him, and He always answers. Make haste 
and pray to Him, and then you’ll feel all 
right.” 

The girl shook her head, then Rollo knelt 
down by her. 

“ Please God don’t kill this girl in a thunder- 
storm. She doesn’t like it, and keep her from 


The Highwayman 


179 


being frightened, and take care of her. For 
Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” 

When he had left off speaking, the girl took 
up his prayer and repeated it word for word 
with an awe-struck face. There was a minute’s 
silence, then Rollo said conclusively, — 

‘‘ There! You need never be frightened any 
more. Because if God is taking care of you, 
no thunder or lightning would dare to touch 
you. Good night.” 

He ran off to bed, and the girl crept off to 
hers with an indescribable feeling of comfort 
and relief. 

He do seem so certain sure, that it must 
be true,” she said, and she fell asleep in 
peace. 

The next morning was a lovely one. They 
were off on their travels early, but their journey 
was uneventful, mostly through lanes and by- 
ways. They stopped at a good sized town in 
the middle of the day, then pushed on, and 
found themselves as evening drew near cross- 
ing a wild bit of moorland. There was a little 
rough sheep track which they were following, 
but a heavy mist began to roll across the moor, 
and Lionel felt doubtful as to whether they 
had better proceed. He was making his way 
to an inn marked on his map, but they had still 


i8o 


Two Tramps 


nearly two miles to go ; and at length he stood 
still to consider. 

Hark ! ’’ said Rollo eagerly, '' there’s some- 
one calling, don’t you hear them ? ” 

Very faintly but clearly a voice came to them 
through the mist, — 

Help ! help ! help ! I’m lost ! Help ! 

Stay where you are Rollo, or we shall lose 
each other. ' ■ ' - ^ 

I will light my lantern and give it to you. 
Then I shall be able to find the path again. 
Don’t move, I must try and help this person ! ” 
Rollo was left alone, sturdily grasping his 
lantern, and wondering if they were going to 
have a third companion in their wanderings. 

Suddenly he gave a violent start. A man 
sprang out of the mist apparently right in front 
of him. 

Yer money or yer life! ” he shouted loudly 
as he levelled a pistol full in Rollo’s face. 

He wore a black mask, and now that an 
actual highwayman stood before him, Rollo 
did not find the experience so pleasant as he had 
always imagined it would be. 

‘H’ve only fivepence halfpenny,” he said, 
trying to speak manfully, and wondering if he 
would be a coward, if he did not at once fight 
this outlaw. 


The Highwayman 


i8i 


He had no time for reflection. His lantern 
was dashed from his hand, a heavy cloak 
thrown over his head, and then he felt himself 
picked up as if he had been a baby and slung 
across the man’s shoulder. He breathed with 
difficulty, and struggle as he did, his captor 
seemed strong enough to be indifferent to his 
efforts. 

It seemed a very long time before he was 
put down on his feet. When the cloak was 
taken from him, he found himself in a little 
dark hollow in a wood, a blazing fire, a queer 
looking tent, and three or four very rough look- 
ing men completed the picture. The men were 
eating their supper, and a pot was boiling 
merrily, suspended over the fire, out of which 
they helped themselves by means of forked 
sticks. 

Rollo looked about him in a dazed fashion. 
Was this a highwayman’s haunt? A bandits’ 
cave? And where was his captor? He had 
disappeared, but the oldest of the men ad- 
dressed him. 

Sit down youngster. Do ’ee think us be 
goin’ to eat yer? ” 

'' I hope I don’t look frightened,” said Rollo 
standing with his legs well apart and his hands 
in his pockets. Because I’m not frightened 


i 82 


Two Tramps 


of you/’ he went on with quivering emphasis; 
'' not one bit.” 

A laugh came from them, then one of the 
men put out his hand and drew him to him. 

Don’t ’ee crow too loud, young cock. Fork 
out that there watch o’ yourn an’ be quick.” 

Rollo’s cheeks were very white, but his hands 
never moved from his pockets. 

Mother sent me that on my last birthday,” 
he said. I wouldn’t think of giving it away. 
It would be wicked if you stole it, for I can 
never get another like it.” 

The man put his great hand in at the back of 
his neck and gave him a little shake. Rollo 
was dizzy for a minute, then when he looked 
down he was minus his watch and chain, and 
the contents of his pockets were cleared com- 
pletely out. The man lay back and laughed at 
his scared face. 

Us don’t take much longer to shake the 
breath out of a youngster’s body if he give us 
any tongue,” he said, an’ then the pot be glad 
to receive his little body, an’ us have an extra 
good stew the nex’ night.” 

The broad wink to the others that accom- 
panied these words, somewhat reassured Rollo. 
But he judged silence was discretion. 

Where be that young fool off to ? ” asked 


The Highwayman 


183 


another of the men. What do he want us to 
do wi’ the kid ? 

There was no answer. Rollo stood irreso- 
lutely before them for a minute, then his cour- 
age returned to him. 

‘‘ I think,’' he said in his old fashioned way; 

that I might sit down and have a little of your 
supper. Tm himgry. And then if you don’t 
mind I should like to spend the night with you, 
and when this mist has gone away in the morn- 
ing I expect you’ll let me go, and I must try to 
find my uncle.” 

One of the men laughed, but on the whole 
they seemed good-natured, and soon Rollo was 
sitting amongst them sharing their meal, and 
fast losing his first dread of them. 

Their talk was for the most part inexplica- 
ble to him, for so many words and phrases they 
used were unknown to him, but he entertained 
them by his remarks and questions, and after a 
time his head began to nod, and his eyes to 
droop. One of the men had pity on him, and 
lifted him inside the tent, throwing an old coat 
over him, and there Rollo slept soundly till he 
was awakened by a voice in his ear. 

‘^Get up, don’t ’ee make a noise, an’ foller 
me. 

Rollo tried to obey, but he was sleepy, and 


184 


Two Tramps 


his legs were stiff. He felt himself being 
picked up and carried away into the open. A 
few minutes after, he found himself being 
placed on a pony’s back, and then he uttered 
a little scream of surprise and joy for Dandy 
was underneath him, and Alf was by his side. 


XIV 


BY THE SEA 

^ ^ H, Alf, Alf ! Vm so glad to see you ! 

I 1 Do tell me how you found me 
here/’ 

Hist ! Not so much noise. I’ll tell ’ee fast 
enough.” 

It was barely light. A line of silver crossed 
the horizon of the moor; the mist had gone, 
and Alf was carefully and quietly leading 
Dandy through a little dell of thick bushes and 
trees. 

‘‘Did yer like the highwayman?” Alf en- 
quired ; “ didn’t he do it proper ? Same as 
us talked about ’un when we were abed ! ” 

Rollo began to understand. 

“ You’ve been playing me a trick,” he said 
with a radiant face. “ I believe you dressed up 
and carried me away ! Of course you did, and 
that was your gypsy camp last night! I 
thought it wasn’t quite like a highwayman’s 
place ! ” 

“ A lot better,” said Alf hastily. “ I have 
been preparin’ this little adventure for yer ever 
since I bolted.” 


185 


Two Tramps 


i86 


How very good of you ! I really have en- 
joyed it ! ” 

There was a little hesitation in Rollo’s voice, 
and Alf laughed outright. 

'' ’E did look proper scared, but now ’ee 
knows what it be like.'’ 

Yes I do,” assented Rollo with laborious 
cheerfulness. But I think next time — if it 
ever happens again — I should like to be quite 
sure that it's only fun ! '' 

Alf shook his head. 

No, that 'ud spile the whole bus'ness. 'Ow's 
the old woman? Tell us what there old bloke 
looked like when he got hold o' my yaller hand- 
kerchy ! ” 

Rollo gave a detailed account of all that had 
occurred since Alf had departed, which the de- 
linquent much enjoyed, as his frequent de- 
lighted chuckles testified. 

But how,'' asked Rollo in bewilderment, 
did you find me last night? '' 

Wall,” said Alf; 'ow did ye find me? I 
have just done 'ee the same good turn 'ee did 
for me? I picked 'ee up, an' am puttin' 'ee on 
the pony, an' as to findin' of 'ee, bless 'ee. I've 
had my eye on 'ee an' on yer gent, ever since 
I left 'ee. I was only waitin' my time.” 

I s'pose,” said Rollo thoughtfully; that 


By the Sea 


187 


taking my watch was only fun. I haven’t got 
it back.” 

Alf put his hand in his pocket and drew it 
out. 

Ye had better clear off now, for some o’ 
our chaps is gone on yer pony, don’t ’ee come 
this way agen. I’ll tell ’em ’ow ye stole off 
unbeknownst to I. ’Twas a clever way to giv’ 
ye the pony back agen, an’ yer watch was just 
a mistake, the chap that took it didn’t know me 
as he oughted to ! ” 

Rollo looked perplexed. 

‘‘ You won’t tell a story, Alf, about a 
pony.” 

Alf laughed 

‘‘ It’s gettin’ light, see that little ’ouse by 
the trees there? That be the nearest inn. Ye 
be sure to find yer uncle there.” 

don’t know,” said Rollo, ‘‘perhaps I 
shan’t. He went away from me to help some- 
one else who was lost.” 

Again Alf laughed. 

“ Ye be such an innercent. ’Twas I set up 
that screechin’ to get the gent off yer trac’ ! ” 

Rollo looked at him in wonder. 

“ An’ now,” pursued Alf, “ I’ll say good day, 
an’ thank ’ee kindly for givin’ of me that 
nussin’ that did me a world o’ good, an’ if ’ee’d 


i88 


Two Tramps 


like another taste o’ robbin’ at night, I’ll do it 
different nex’ time ! ” 

“ Oh, no, thank you. I think I won’t have 
another adventure just yet.” 

Rollo’s tone was emphatic, then he looked 
at the gypsy lad rather wistfully. 

“ I think if we’re saying good-bye, I’d like to 
do what my uncle does and give you a message. 
He has little books that he gives away. But I 
haven’t any, only the day you left Alf, I wrote 
out something on paper to give you when I saw 
you next. I knew you would bring back 
Dandy. Would you like to have it ? It’s a — a 
text out of the Bible, because my uncle’s books 
all come out of the Bible.” 

Rollo felt very carefully in his pocket. The 
slip of paper was still there and had not tumbled 
out with his other possessions. 

He opened it, and read it out to Alf, who 
looked at it with mingled feelings of amuse- 
ment and dismay. 

“ For the ways of man are before the eyes 
of the Lord, and He pondereth all his 
goings.” 

“ It’s what mother wrote in my Bible,” said 
Rollo ; “ she said in a letter to me, that it was 
a good thing to remember when I was going 
to do naughty things, so I thought you might 


By the Sea 


189 


like it too. You’re more of a man than I am 
Alf, but I hope to be growing up soon.” 

Alf took the paper and put it into one of his 
pockets. 

ril read it on a Sunday,” he said. Good- 
bye, little ’un ! ” 

He dashed back into the wood, and was seen 
no more. Rollo rode slowly on, thinking of 
many things. He was not anxious about his 
uncle, as he felt confident that he would meet 
him at the inn, and when he arrived there, the 
landlord informed him that a gent with two 
men,” had been searching the moor all night 
for a lost child, An’ he be just come in, an’ 
have gone up for a wash, bein’ properly wored 
out!” 

Rollo got off his pony and ran up the little 
stairs to the room indicated. Lionel received 
him with a long drawn breath of relief. But 
he did not view Alf’s proceedings in the same 
gratified light that his nephew did and Rollo 
was puzzled at his wrath. 

Alf planned it all out to please me, he 
really did,” the boy urged, when Lionel de- 
clared he ought to be in gaol. “ He only kept 
Dandy till he made himself into a highwayman. 
We used to talk about it, and I said how very 
nice it would be to have an adventure. You see 


190 


Two Tramps 


the days are rather quiet, and I thought it 
would keep you and me from feeling dull. Alf 
wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t known I 
wanted it, and he has taken great care of 
Dandy. Please don’t be angry with him ! ” 
Lionel began to see the humorous side 
of it. 

“ I should be glad,” he said in his dry man- 
ner, “ if you would notify to me next time, any 
adventure of this sort that you have been plan- 
ning. I am sorry you find the days so dull, but 
I do not find wandering about in a moor mist 
all night, so very exhilarating ! ” 

“ I think,” admitted Rollo slowly, “ that 
stories of adventure are nicer than when you 
have them in real life. I won’t wish for it 
again I promise you ! ” 

Breakfast was a silent meal. After it was 
over, Lionel went off to a little trout stream 
near to fish. He left Rollo in the small in 
parlour to rest, for he looked fagged and 
white. 

“ I had better write my letter to mother,” 
Rollo said. “ I shall have plenty to tell her to- 
day.” 

So he was left with pen and ink and paper, 
and for some time he found his employment 
sufficiently engrossing to occupy his time and 


By the Sea 


191 


thoughts. But the letter was finished at last, 
and then he wandered about the room discon- 
solately. 

‘‘ I have been told to stay in, so I must stay 
in,’’ he soliloquised, but I really must find 
some one to talk to.'’ 

He put his head out of the window, and to 
his joy saw the landlord, a jovial looking man, 
digging up some potatoes in a piece of ground 
close to the house. 

A conversation was started at once. Rollo 
gave a full and particular account of his ad- 
venture, to which the landlord listened with 
open mouth and eyes. 

Them gypsies be a bad lot," he remarked. 

They getteth a livin' wi'out puttin' their 
hands to work, which is in course contrary to 
right an' scriptur'. Some on 'em do make a 
purtence o' mendin' an' tinkerin' pots an' pans, 
an’ there be a bit o' basket work done by others, 
but the most part be idle vagabon's, a stealin' 
an' poachin' an' trickin' on honest folks' 
grounds." 

I like them," Rollo said stoutly, at least 
I liked Alf, but is it wicked to live without 
working, because I think I'm doing it." 

I broughted up my boys to work sin' they 
could put out their ban's an' feet. Idleness 


192 


Two Tramps 


makes more rogues an’ thieves than aught else 
that I knows of.” 

I shall work when I grow up of course,” 
said Rollo hastily. '' I am not quite sure what 
I shall do — I change my mind so often, but I 
shan’t work in London. I shall come to the 
country. Do you think I could keep an inn like 
you? It doesn’t seem very difficult, and I 
should like to put up tramps like us and talk to 
them. Don’t you like seeing new people ? 
I do, only the worst of it is, we never seem 
to see them again. There’s one thing, I shall 
have a lot of people to talk to when I get to 
Heaven and see them there. And we must see 
everybody on the Judgment Day ! ” 

The landlord rubbed his head. 

‘^Ay little master, ye have a wunnerful 
tongue,” was all that he found to say, but when 
Lionel returned to a mid-day meal, he found 
an animated conversation going on between 
them on the merits and demerits of class dis- 
tinction. 

Sometimes I wonder if Miss Percy trains 
you to talk,” Lionel remarked, as they were 
consuming a beefsteak together. Now what 
on earth have you to say about such subjects? ” 
'' He began it,” said Rollo, hanging his head. 

He made me feel it was wicked to be born 


By the Sea 


193 


rich. He said the Bible said so, but I told him 
lots of the good people were rich. Abraham, 
and Jacob and Joseph. He said Jacob worked 
for his living, but he only did it while he was 
waiting to be married, didn’t he? And then 
we were wondering what the world would be 
if everybody was poor, all round you know, and 
the King had to dig up potatoes for his dinner, 
but he said if everybody had equal, they would 
be rich then ; that was what he ought to be, so 
then I reminded him he said it was wicked to be 
rich, and then we got so confused that we 
couldn’t get straight again.” 

Well now you can give your tongue a rest. 
Make a good dinner, for we must be starting 
at two o’clock. As you will be riding again, we 
can push on to a town I want to reach to- 
night.” 

At two o’clock they started. The landlord, 
and one or two idle men gathered round the 
door to see them depart. 

Rollo took off his hat, and waved to them. 

“ Good-bye,” he shouted to the landlord, 
good-bye — till the Judgment Day ! I shall be 
sure to see you again there ! ” 

With this startling assertion he rode away, 
and the landlord turned into the house rubbing 
his head reflectively. He had one of Lionel’s 


194 


Two Tramps 


little books in his pocket. Was it mere coinci- 
dence, that as he took it out the title stared him 
in the face: So then every one of us shall 
give account of himself to God ? 

And the messengers were moving on through 
the shady lanes; the elder so absorbed in his 
thoughts that for the time being he was quite 
oblivious of the outer world ; the younger not- 
ing with quick eager glances every bird on the 
wing, every flower by the wayside, and delight- 
ing in every fresh object that nature brought 
before him. 

A few days later found them no longer in 
leafy lanes, or on a heather and bracken covered 
moor, but by the side of the grand old ocean, 
and Rollo’s cup of happiness was full. 

‘‘ Oh do let us stay here for a week at least,’’ 
he pleaded. I have hardly ever been by the 
sea, and I have never seen such beautiful blue 
and green water, or such lovely sea-weedy 
rocks.” 

They were in a quiet little fishing village, 
and had taken rooms in a small cottage facing 
the sea. Lionel was content to stay a time, so 
Rollo found his request granted at once. The 
weather was exquisite. At seven o’clock Rollo 
went out with his uncle to bathe. Eight o’clock 
breakfast followed, and for the rest of the 


By the Sea 


195 


day he was left pretty much to his own 
devices. 

Of course he made friends with the fisher- 
men, and before three days had passed, knew 
them all by name, and the various particulars 
of their respective homes and families. 

Two other strangers were also lodging in the 
village. One was a thin, gaunt old man, who 
was wheeled down to the beach every morning 
in a bath chair; his servant attending to his 
wants with a devotion that was quite striking. 
The other was an artist, who perched his easel 
amongst a certain group of rocks, and painted 
away with untiring diligence till the sun began 
to set. 

Rollo watched him with great awe and re- 
spect, and soon was on speaking terms with 
him. 

Has any one ever been able to paint the 
sun ? ’’ he asked one morning as he stood watch- 
ing the artist putting lines of broken light on 
the ripple of the waves. 

The artist shook his head. 

‘‘ We can paint different effects of the sun; 
we can depict him when he is shrouded in fog 
or mist, of in the act of rising or setting, but 
in his mid-day splendour, he is an impossible 
subject.’’ 


196 


Two Tramps 


'' I s’pose/’ said Rollo slowly, '' he is like 
God. Too bright for our eyes.” 

Then after a pause he added, — 

'' Pictures are funny things, aren’t they? I 
feel I should like to walk right into your pic- 
ture and put my legs into the sea that you’ve 
made, but there’s one thing your paint doesn’t 
do. It doesn’t give it the proper smell. I won- 
der if you rubbed some seaweed over it, or 
washed it very carefully with a little sea, 
whether it would be better.” 

The artist smiled. 

‘'Come now, small critic,” he said; “paint 
a picture yourself, and then you will have scope 
to carry out all these original ideas of yours.” 

Rollo took the hint, and was forthwith smit- 
ten with a desire to paint. The artist good- 
naturedly lent him some little bits of paint, and 
he brought a camp stool out with great im- 
portance, and started work. 

But alas! all his efforts were fruitless, and 
after several vain attempts Rollo sorrowfully 
tore up his bit of paper. 

“ I can’t do it, and I feel I should never 
learn, I s’pose I am too stupid.” 

“ You cannot expect to do in one minute 
what has taken me years of hard grinding work 
to produce,” sard the artist, 


By the Sea 


197 


Rollo took this to heart. 

‘‘ But there’s one thing I can do,” he said 
brightly, ‘‘ I can shut my eyes when Fm away 
from a thing and see it all there still. And 
sometimes when I’m in bed, I shut my eyes, and 
see all kinds of things. Dragons, and robbers, 
and birds’ nests, and gypsies, and the sun and 
the flowers and the trees. This is next best to 
painting them isn’t it? ” 

‘‘ Certainly,” assented the artist. 

Then Rollo wandered away to make friends 
with the gentleman in the bath chair, Mr. 
Smith-Tompkins, by name. 

He found conversation difficult with him, for 
he was a gloomy, miserable man. But occa- 
sionally Rollo’s remarks drew him out of him- 
self. 

“ After all,” the small boy said by way of 
comfort, it doesn’t matter if your head is 
right, what your arms and legs are like, does it ? 
I mean your arms and legs don’t think for you, 
or pretend. I think pretending is very nice 
when you aren’t well. When I have a head- 
ache I try sometimes to pretend I’m in delicious 
places with no headache at all. You know how 
hot and thirsty you get when your head is bad ? 
Well I think of a stream pouring out through 
ferns and flowers in front of me, and a stream 


198 


Two Tramps 


by my feet, and then I pretend a black slave is 
fanning me on one side, and another is pouring 
out some iced lemonade, and then if I want 
to feel quite delicious I pretend mother is stand- 
ing by me, and putting her hand on my fore- 
head. I think of her silk dress and her soft 
voice, and a smell like a rose about her, and 
then I make her say, ^ Now Rollo you will feel 
better,’ and generally when I get to that part 
I fall asleep and don’t feel my headache any 
more. I wish you would try that when you feel 
rather ill.” 

A smile crossed the face of the invalid. 

'' No,” he said; '' the gift of imagination is 
not mine, only bitter memories.” 

But you can remember some nice things,” 
urged Rollo. When you were a boy like me, 
and had a mother, and the first time you went 
to the sea-side.” 

'' I was born by the sea,” the gentleman said 
gloomily. ‘‘ That is why I have come back to 
it. It is a restless, turbulent spirit like my own, 
that cannot be calmed by time.” 

I s’pose,” said Rollo thoughtfully, you 
would like to be tramping along like us, but the 
sea is quite calm sometimes.” 

And so am I,” said his friend impatiently, 
^^as quiet and torpid as any sleeping toad or 


By the Sea 


199 


tortoise. My body is forced to be so, worse 
luck for me.’’ 

It was strange what confidences passed be- 
tween the two. Lionel could get no talk at all 
from the sick man, but his small nephew seemed 
to enjoy his conversations with him thoroughly, 
and Mr. Smith-Tompkins’ eyes had a wistful, 
searching look in them if when he was wheeled 
down to the beach, Rollo was not near at hand. 

Sims, his servant, has told me all about 
him,” said Rollo, one evening, as he and his 
uncle were partaking of a late supper together. 

He said he used to hunt, and had a horse that 
was a bit of himself and then he got a fall, and 
has never been able to walk since. And he was 
going to be married, and when he became a 
cripple the lady married some one else. I think 
it was too bad of her, don’t you? And Sims 
says he doesn’t like to look at the country, and 
if he sees a fox he is awfully angry, and he likes 
looking out at the sea and nothing else.” 

Poor fellow ! ” said Lionel sympathisingly. 

What a trial ! No wonder he looks so miser- 
able.” 

‘‘ But he can read books,” Rollo said enthusi- 
astically, “ he never has to be told that he 
mustn’t do it. And he has money enough to 
buy every book that is ever written ! ” 


XV 


MR. SMITH-TOMPKINS 

I T was the last day of their stay at the sea, 
and Rollo was saying good-bye to his 
various friends. He had fished with one 
old man, shrimped with another, been out for 
a row with another, and there was hardly an 
inhabitant of the village to whom he had not 
talked. 

‘‘When I grow up,’' he informed a little 
group of them ; “ I promise you I will come 
back to this village, for I like it quite the best of 
all the places I have seen, and there is enough 
to make me busy, and keep me doing different 
things till I’m a hundred years old ! ” 

The artist was sitting on his rocks, when he 
went to bid him farewell. 

“Good-bye, little tramp,” he said; “you 
have an artist’s soul if you have not an artist’s 
fingers. There are different kinds of pictures, 
remember. Canvas and paint do not produce 
the best sort, it may be the most lucrative. 
There are word pictures that appeal to hearts 
instead of eyes. There are thought pictures 
that make the unseen real and near to us. Paint 


300 


Mr. Smith-Tompkins 


201 


away with your brain, and let others have the 
benefit of it/’ 

Rollo left him with a grave, thoughtful face, 
and went in search" of Mr. Smith-Tompkins. 
He found him alone at the extremity of the 
beach, round a projecting cliff, and out of sight 
of the fishing boats and village. For a wonder 
his servant was not with him. He was sitting 
in his chair, a book on his knees; but his rest- 
less, miserable eyes were roving over the ocean 
in front of him. 

He turned, hearing the light footsteps ap- 
proaching him, and a light leaped into his eyes. 

‘‘ I have come to say good-bye,” said Rollo, 
laying his little hand lightly on the worn, 
wrinkled one. It’s the only disagreeable 
thing about tramping, having to say such hun- 
dreds of good-byes.” 

‘‘Why are you going so soon?” asked Mr. 
Smith-Tompkins, gruffly. 

“ We never stay long anywhere. My uncle 
has a map, and he goes where that tells him. 
I’ve come to say good-bye early, because I 
thought we could have another long talk 
first.” 

Rollo settled himself down accordingly, and 
if Mr. Smith-Tompkins’ tongue did not move 
very fast, his did duty for them both. Time 


202 


Two Tramps 


slipped by, and suddenly the swish of the in- 
coming tide made Rollo look round. To his 
consternation he found the waves had quietly 
crept in behind them cutting them off entirely 
from the beach the other side of the projecting 
rock. 

“Oh, Mr. Smith-Tompkins, what shall we 
do ? Where is Sims ? ” 

“ The fool is dawdling in the town I suppose. 
He went to Rumelford to get something for 
me. 

'' Rumelford is a long way off, isn’t it? We 
must get back at once, the tide is coming in 
all round us. I’ll push your chair through the 
water, it can’t be very deep yet.” 

Rollo was rising to the occasion, but his face 
was pale with apprehension. 

The chair was very heavy, and the beach 
stony. He managed to turn it round, but when 
the invalid saw the encroach that the sea had 
made, he uttered an exclamation of despair. 

Sims has left me here to die, run on your- 
self and leave me, I did tell that fool I wouldn’t 
mind drowning. He wanted to move me be- 
fore he went, but he’ll be thankful to see the 
last of me. Leave me boy, and go ! ” 

Rollo shouted aloud for help, but the noise 
of the waves seemed to drown his voice. He 


Mr. Smith-Tompkins 


struggled to push the chair through the water, 
but it stuck between the large stones and he 
could not dislodge it. He turned and faced 
Mr. Smith-Tompkins solemnly. 

‘‘ I believe God means us to die,'' he said. 

And if He does, I s'pose it will be all right." 

“ Leave me," shouted Mr. Smith-Tompkins. 
‘‘ Try and wade through. Don't you see that 
is our only chance." 

Rollo saw at last, and splashed bravely 
through the water. Deeper and deeper it got, 
he turned his head and called out in an un- 
naturally cheerful tone, I'll go on till it comes 
up to my mouth, and then I'll try to swim. I 
can nearly do that." 

Mr. . Smith-Tompkins watched him with 
eager, bloodshot eyes. Why, oh why did life 
seem so precious to him, when he led such a 
useless miserable existence? He could not 
reason it out. His heart was full of a dull 
hopeless rage against his own impotence and 
helpfulness. One little lad held his life in his 
hand, would he be able to get through, and 
bring help in time ? 

Then Rollo gave a shout. 

I've got through the deepest bit. I'm all 
right now, I'll bring you help ! 

He disappeared round the corner. The in- 


204 


Two Tramps 


valid sat still and waited. The waves crept 
greedily round his chair, they lapped through 
the wheels of it, they dashed their foam into 
his face, and soon with a little splash and splut- 
ter filled the bottom of it. Higher and higher 
they rose. They began to buffet him to and 
fro, and the miserable man looked out upon the 
ocean with dread filling his soul. He was not 
ready to die, he kept repeating to himself; he 
could not die so suddenly ; he meant to do better 
before his time came, and then he looked up 
into the heavens above, and this prayer rose to 
his lips, — 

“ I’ll be different if I’m given another chance. 
May the Almighty give it to me. For Christ’s 
sake. Amen.” 

Was that a voice, a cry? He turned his 
head. As his prayer ascended, it was heard 
and answered. A boat was coming round the 
corner, and Rollo was waving and shouting 
to him. 

A few minutes later he was being carefully 
lifted into the boat, and as he was taken to his 
house, the faithful Sims came rushing down 
to the beach in agony of mind. 

“ I knewed I would be too late, I told the 
master so, but he were so terrible set on my 
leavin’ him, and going into Rumelford. I told 


Mr. Smith-Tompkins 


2C5 


one o’ you to have a look to the master, now 
why couldn’t you a done it ! ” 

Mr. Smith-Tompkins was quite exhausted 
with his wetting and exposure. Rollo went in 
and changed his clothes, and then ran over to 
enquire how he was, but Sims would not let 
him see him, only said he was doing well. 
However, just after uncle and nephew had fin- 
ished their evening meal, a message came over 
from Mr. Smith-Tompkins asking to see the 
boy. 

Rollo went at once, and was shown into a 
bedroom where his friend lay in bed, looking 
more abject and miserable than ever. 

Come here,” he said; ^‘and send Sims 
away.” 

I’m so sorry you got so wet,” said Rollo, 
but I’m very glad we came in time, I was so 
afraid we should be too late. May I talk about 
it? You don’t mind ? Well, you see,, they took 
so long to understand, and most of them had 
gone out fishing, and when we got the boat 
out I thought they would never get along! I 
don’t mind telling you, but I knew that Jesus 
Christ was with us. I told you how He always 
comes with us every where — and I asked Him 
to make the boat go faster. I seemed to fancy 
— ” here Rollo’s blue eyes got misty and 


2o6 


Two Tramps 


dreamy, — “ that He took an oar Himself. I 
half believe He did, for we got through the sea 
quicker ! ” 

There was silence, then the man took hold of 
the small hand, and said brokenly, 

“ I’m a rich man, and have no use for my 
money — ^you could weigh that well, for I would 
leave it to you. I have no kith or kin — and 
it would be worth your while — I want to keep 
you with me — tell your uncle so — not because 
you saved my life this afternoon — ^but I’m 
going to live on different lines, and you and I 
could do it better together.” 

Rollo stared at him, only partially under- 
standing the drift of his words. 

“ I’m afraid I couldn’t leave my uncle,” he 
said slowly ; “ and you see my holiday will 
soon be coming to an end.” 

“ Your schooling would be seen to. I’d give 
you a tutor — I’m a lonely man, and it would be 
a first rate thing for you. I want some one to 
talk to me. I’m sick of Sims’ ‘Yes sir,’ and 
‘ No sir ’ — sick to death of his voice. I’d bring 
you up like a son of my own — couldn’t do more 
— tell your uncle to come up and talk it over 
and settle it as soon as possible. Expect he’ll 
be glad to have you off his hands. Didn’t you 
tell me he wanted to get married ? ” 


Mr. Smith-Tompkins 


207 


Yes — ^but — ^but I’m afraid I don’t quite 
understand. Do you want me to come and live 
with you altogether. Because I couldn’t do 
that. I belong to father and mother, and 
they’re coming back from India some day, and 
then I shall live with them.” 

'Mr. Smith-Tompkins made an impatient 
movement with his head. 

‘‘Tell your uncle to come over and speak to 
me,” he muttered. “ At once too — the sooner 
the better.” 

So Lionel was summoned, and very surprised 
he was when Mr. Smith-Tompkins propounded 
his scheme. Very kindly but firmly he refused 
to entertain such an idea for a minute, 
and though the invalid grew angry, im- 
patient, and pathetic by turns, Lionel remained 
firm. 

“ He is my sister’s only child, and a very 
delicate one. I thank you for your generous 
offer, but as his guardian in the place of his 
parents, I tell you nothing would induce me 
to give my consent to such a plan.” 

And then Lionel walked off and left Rollo 
to soothe and comfort the disconsolate old man. 

“ I’m very sorry really. Would you like me 
to write you letters, and tell you all the places 
we go to? And couldn’t you, wouldn’t you 


2o8 


Two Tramps 


write to me sometimes? I do love letters so, 
and I hardly ever get any/’ 

I wish I had never set eyes on you,” said 
the invalid in a surly manner. You’re like all 
others, only care for those in health and 
strength.” 

I like you very much, really I do. I always 
like ill people. There was an old woman I used 
to go to see in London with Miss Percy. She 
was doubled up with rheumatism but she was 
always smiling. She used to say her body was 
a creaking rusty cage, but her soul would soon 
be out of it. You’ll be glad when you get to 
Heaven, won’t you? I’ve been wondering 
about souls and bodies since I talked with a lady 
about it. And I wonder if people die because 
their souls get so big that they burst up their 
bodies! Miss Greening said that your soul 
ought to go on growing after your body stopped 
— I was thinking of a chicken in the egg you 
know, how the egg gets too small to hold it, 
and it must burst through ! ” 

Mr. Smith-Tompkins gazed at him in silence 
then he said with a little laugh, — 

Well we had a narrow squeak of going 
through that experience to-day, but I can’t say 
my soul is a big one, in fact I doubt whether I 
have one at all.” 


209 


Mr. Smith-Tompkins 


Oh but you must have one, because God 
made us with souls didn't he? Do you think 
we should have been sitting in Heaven together 
this evening, if the sea had drowned us this 
afternoon ? " 

Mr. Smith-Tompkins made no reply. Rollo 
chatted on. From things in Heaven to things 
on earth, and when his time came to go, he de- 
clared that he hadn't half finished talking." 

But he did what he very seldom did to any 
one. He shyly stooped over the old man and 
kissed him. 

‘‘ Good-bye," he said, and if you get to 
Heaven before me, keep a place by your side 
for me, for I really should like to have some 
more talk with you so much." 

He went, and Mr. Smith-Tompkins' eyes 
glistened strangely. Never saw such a little 
chap. Wonder if by any chance, I could get 
to believe in — in good things — must have a 
try I suppose — as I promised — should have 
been a dead man if he hadn't been with me! " 
I've been thinking," said Rollo that eve- 
ning to his uncle, just before he went to bed, 
‘‘of another chapter our book must have. I 
think we might write about partings." 

“ What kind of partings ? " asked Lionel 
lazily. 


210 


Two Tramps 


All kinds, things and people coming to 
pieces — ^your soul and your body parting, and 
saying good-bye to people, and — and chickens 
and eggs, and all the things you lose and never 
find again, like my pencil I had for two years, 
and IVe never been able to buy another just 
like it since. I have got it rather confused in 
my head, but you could put it straight.'’ 

'‘Yes, we could have a chapter on parts and 
partings," assented his uncle. Kingdoms, com- 
munities, families, and individuals all have 
parts that drop away from them, sometimes to 
their advantage, sometimes disadvantage. We 
must be willing to part with a good deal that 
is marring our whole, if we wish to obtain the 
' better part.' " 

" That's too difficult for me," sighed Rollo. 

" And," pursued Lionel meditatively, " we 
must part to make a whole." 

" Good night," said Rollo meekly. 


XVI 


THEIR BOOK 

OLLO come here. I want to speak 

1^ to you.’' 

A V. Rollo had finished his breakfast, 
and was gazing delightedly out of the window 
of a very substantial inn in an old fashioned 
market town. It was market day, and the large 
square in front of the house was crowded with 
cattle, sheep, and country people in their carts, 
and on foot, with the inevitable market baskets 
on their arms. 

Lionel and his little nephew had done a long 
tramp the day previously so were having a late 
breakfast in consequence. It was ten o’clock, 
and Lionel was still sitting at the table with 
his cup of coffee untouched before him, wholly 
engrossed in his letters. 

Rollo came at once, when he was called. 

I am afraid our tramp must come to an 
end,” Lionel said. '' I have business that neces- 
sitates my return to town earlier than I thought, 
but I am feeling so fit now that I have no longer 
any excuse for staying away. What about 
you ? Do you feel ready to go back to lessons 
again? ” 


211 


212 


Two Tramps 


‘‘ Tm quite well thank you,” said Rollo 
slowly; ‘‘ I think I shall like it after a bit you 
know.” 

Lionel looked at him critically. 

‘‘ You are sunburnt and rosy,” he said; and 
have a good deal more flesh on your bones than 
when you started with me. I hope Miss Percy 
will be satisfied with you. We will have a look 
round this place for to-day, then to-morrow we 
will go by train to Exeter,, give Dandy back to 
his master, and go on to town by the mid-day 
train.” 

‘‘ It is very quick news to me,” said Rollo 
staring at his uncle in a dazed fashion. I 
somehow thought we would go on for ever, at 
least until all the summer went.” 

Such was never my intention,” said Lionel 
smiling. Now make the most of your last 
day. I thought we would take our lunch out, 
and visit the ruins of an old abbey on the top 
of a hill near here. But I have letters to write 
first, then I shall be ready.” 

Rollo put on his straw hat and went out. He 
felt a strange sinking at his heart, and the 
market place for the time had lost its attrac- 
tion. 

He wandered through the town, then opened 
the gate of a field and went across it. When 


Their Book 


213 


he came to the end of it he found himself on 
the brow of a hill overlooking a wooded valley. 
The air blew across from the opposite hill, 
sweet and fresh, birds were singing in those 
peculiar liquid mellow tones that show they 
are lazily enjoying their existence. Rollo 
leant across the bars of a gate and feasted his 
eyes and his soul upon the scene in front of 
him. The blue haze in the distance, the min- 
gling of the larches, beeches and elms in the 
woods, the soft contour of the hills, and the 
sparkle of the winding river below, all seemed 
to him to say. 

Stay with us, we love you, and you love 

us.’' 

Stretching out his small arms, he threw his 
head up and drew in a long breath. 

Oh you are beautiful, beautiful ! ” he cried; 
why should I leave you ! I hate smoky 
foggy London, and Tm going back there to- 
morrow.” 

Then in the fulness of his heart, he raised 
his eyes heavenwards. 

‘‘ Oh God, this is your country. Tm sure 
you can’t like London, do bring me back here ! 
You’ll know how to manage it. If only Lon- 
don could be swallowed up or buried like Sodom 
and Gomorrah without the people being hurt! 


214 


Two Tramps 


Please do help me to live in the country, for 
Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” 

He was very silent when he returned to his 
uncle. Lionel seemed in good spirits. He in- 
formed his nephew that Miss Chesterfield and 
her uncle were returning to town the same day 
as they were, “ and I think we shall meet them 
at Exeter,” he added; “so we may travel to- 
gether.” 

“ And then after the day after to-morrow,” 
said Rollo lugubriously, “you and I will be 
quite away from each other, and won’t know 
what the other is doing.” 

“ I can pretty well guess at your occupa- 
tions,” Lionel said with an amused look in his 
eye. “ I know your tongue will be pretty hard 
at it for the first day or two.” 

“ But my soul,” said Rollo slowly, “ will be 
sorrowful.” 

Lionel looked at him. The boy was walking 
steadily along, but his eyes were gazing into 
space, and his uncle checked the smile that came 
to his lips. 

“ You won’t be sorry to see Miss Percy 
again, I am sure.” 

Rollo gave a little sigh. 

“ I have a country soul,” he said; “ I think 
God made me with one.” 


Their Book 


215 


‘‘ But if you lived the life you have been 
leading with me all the year round, you would 
run to weed, and when you grew up you would 
be unfit to take your place as a country gentle- 
man anywhere. Learn all you can now, and 
trust that you may have the desire of your 
heart fulfilled when you grow to man’s estate. 
Don’t let this idle holiday make you discon- 
tented with your school duties, or I shall regret 
having taken you with me.” 

Rollo was silent. 

They reached the old abbey, and here against 
an ivy-covered turret they sat down and ate 
their lunch. Rollo shook off his gravity, and 
began to enjoy himself. 

When Lionel lay down to have a smoke he 
took out a little well-worn note book from his 
pocket, and began writing busily. Presently 
he said to his uncle, — 

‘‘ When shall we write our book ? ” 

‘‘Oh, ah! I had forgotten. What is it to 
be called?” 

“ I have the chapters written out. Sfiall I 
read them to you? The heads of chapters I 
mean.” 

“ Read away.” 

Rollo cleared his throat importantly. 

“ Chapter one. Golden Gorse. 


2i6 


Two Tramps 


Chapter two. 
Chapter three. 
Chapter four. 
Chapter five. 
Chapter six. 
Chapter seven. 
Chapter eight. 
Chapter nine. 
‘‘Very good/’ 


Runaways. 

Ends. 

Worlds. 

Bullies and Benefactors. 
Messengers. 

Love. 

Growth. 

Parts and Partings.’' 
Lionel said thoughtfully. 


“We will take another holiday some time, my 
boy, and write that book together. I think we 
might add one more chapter.” 

“ What shall it be?” 

“ I must think it out, and tell you later on. 
Do you think you have learnt much from our 
tramp?” 

“ I have found out that the world is very 
big,” said Rollo. “ You see I have seen and 
spoken to such quantities of people, and I like 
them all, every one of them. No one has been 
disagreeable to me or called me a boy.” 

“ But is that an objectionable truth?” 

“ It means in London that you’re a plague. 
Miss Percy says that boys have got a name for 
being troublesome. I’ve made a list in my book 
of the people I would like to see again. Would 
you like to hear it? ” 


Their Book 


217 


So Rollo read : 

‘‘ Fay. 

'' Mrs. Duncan. 

Bobby. 

‘‘Kizzy. 

Miss Greening. 

Mr. Smith-Tompkins. 

'' Those are my friends/' he added in con- 
clusion; ‘‘and now Fll tell you what I should 
like. I should like Father and Mother to come 
home and have a very big house in the coun- 
try. Kizzy would be our housekeeper, and Alf 
our coachman, Miss Greening would have one 
big spare room, and Mrs. Duncan another, and 
Mr. S'mith-Tompkins another. Fay and Bobby 
would do lessons with me and play. And then 
you would have the study and be writing our 
book, and — and," Rollo looked shyly at his 
uncle. “ I think Miss Chesterfield would have 
to stay with us too." 

“A very happy family," laughed Lionel; 
“ but I should be sorry for the head of such a 
household." 

They chatted on; then got up and explored 
the old abbey, and tried to piece its past walls 
and passages together. 

When they returned to the inn, packing was 
done, and then in the cool of the evening they 


2i8 


Two Tramps 


sauntered down to an old stone bridge across 
the river. Here they sat and had more desul- 
tory conversation. 

One wonders,” said Lionel musingly, if 
the footprints we leave behind us as we tramp 
through life guide or mislead. It would be 
good to be one’s own follower sometimes.” 

‘‘ Do we always leave footprints behind us? ” 
asked Rollo with interest. 

‘^Always.” 

Have we in Devonshire? ” 

Yes.” 

This sent Rollo into a brown study. He 
emerged from it with a shining face. 

Is Jesus Christ in front of us or behind us 
as we go along? ” 

'‘In front I hope; if we keep in our right 
position He is.” 

" Then if we keep close behind Him our foot- 
prints will guide other people after Him won’t 
they?” 

Lionel smiled assent. 

“Our last chapter in our book must be on 
footprints, I think.” 

“ And what shall we call our book itself ? ” 

Lionel thought. 

“ Tramps and their Guide,” he said. 

Rollo clasped his hands over his knees and 


Their Book 


219 


looked up into the sky. The sun was slowly 
setting, and sending shafts of crmson and gold 
along the horizon as it did so. There was a 
stillness in the air ; night was taking day softly 
and tenderly into his embrace, and Nature 
hushed her children to sleep in the process. 

‘‘ I can't be a tramp in the country any 
more," he said slowly and reflectively; ‘'but I 
shall never give up tramping after Jesus." 


\: 


By AMY LE FEUVRE 


P ROBABLE SONS \yoth thousand. 

Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, 35 c. New illustrated 
edition. Small 4to, decorated cloth, 50c. 

“ We do not know the author of this very touching tale. It is 
equal to ‘ Fishin’ Jimmy ’ in its way, while as an illustration of the 
text, ‘A little child shall lead them,’ it is the most irresistibly pa- 
thetic tale we remember to have seen. Among the brightest, most 
charming and irresistible of child-creations in our recent literature,” 
— The Independence^ 

“One of the brightest, sweetest, most helpful little books 
for young and old that we have seen ifor many a day. It is alive 
with that sort of humor that is so close to pathos that one laughs 
and cries in the same breath. It speaks to the very heart, and 
appeals strongly to all ‘probable sons,’ in whatever station or con- 
dition, in an irresistible way; and with winning simplicity and 
confidence shows the readiness of the Father to forgive and to 
receive.” — Christian Work. 


-’pLDDY’S BUTTON 

Illustrated. Small 4to, decorated cloth, 50c. 

“A captivating story. Teddy and Nancy win our hearts. 
Tedd’ys brave fight with nimself commands admiration, and stout- 
hearted, handsome Nancy, a real girl in all her doings, conquers 
the heart. A very good story is this for the children.” — The 
Christian Intelligencer. 

“‘Teddy’s Button’ was taken from the coat of his dying sol- 
dier father, and in the hands of the boy became d sort of talisman 
and an incentive to valiant service as a soldier of Jesus Christ. 
The story is one of fascinating interest, and the moral of it is not 
far to seek. The little folks will need no urging to read it.” — The 
Evangelist. 


THOUGHTLESS SEVEN 

Profusely illustrated. Small 4to, decorated 
cloth, 50c. 

“Thunder,” “Li” (Lightning), “Taters,”“ Honey,” “Pat,” 
“Pixie,” and “Doodle-doo,’’ make up the rollicking group whose 
adventures and chatter are here recorded. They are mercurial 
and insurrectionary to the last degree, and fly in a perpetual “merry- 
go-round.” But a strain of seriousness early begins to develop, 
leading up into large and noble Christian experience and ambition. 
The incarnation of religion in daily life where it is “ not too good for 
human nature’s daily food,” is admirably exemplified and com- 
mended.” — Watchman. 

“A big and a bright and interesting family is here set before 
us. How one of them began to think, and then by acting on her 
thinking led the others into the right way the little sketch tells 
—Pilgrim Teacher, 


r 

L 

















-* -v. 




By AMY LE rEUVRE 


^HERRY, tKe Cumberer tKat 
Bore F ruit 

Illustrated, i2mo, cloth, net $i.oo. 

There is the irrepressible Stacy who is continually devising: 
new schemes to get himself into scrapes. Phil, who follows pretty 
closely the lead of his older brother. Little Bonnie, who is the first 
to wind her way, by her quaint acts and sayings, into her father’s 
affections. But to Cherry, whose endeavor is not to be a “cumberer ’* 
(like her cherry tree, planted at her birth, which in spite of every 
atttenion has never borne fruit), must be conceded the first ^lace. 
Around this the story has been cleverly woven, and from it the 
author has secured her title. Every story from her remarkable pen 
seems to be a still greater improvement over its predecessor, and 
this is certainly the very ideal of a child’s story. The realness of it, 
too, makes it more than interesting to older folks as well. 


q'HE ODD ONE 

Profusely illustrated by Mary A. Lathbury. 
Small 4to, $i.oo. 

“ The story of a little girl of six or seven summers; one of those 
delightful, innocent, entrancing little pieces of individualism that 
creep into the hearts of the world’s older children ere they are 
aware of it, and steal their secrets by the very comfortableness of 
the clear-sighted sympathy which exhales from these whose nature 
is pure truth.” — Minn. Times. 

“ It tells of the sufferings of a little child who was neglected 
by her parents and misunderstood by her nurse, while her two older 
sisters and her two younger brothers left her much alone. How 
she at last found comfort in a dog. how the dog gave his life for 
her, and how she developed through all her experience is told.” — 
Pilgrim Teacher. 


PUZZLING PAIR 

With illustrations on every page, by Eve- 
line Lance. 4to, cloth, $i.oo. 

“ The adventures of two small seekers after truth, Guy, the 
artist, and his extremely practical twin sister. Beryl, who live in an 
old manor-house by the seashore. Left almost entirely to them- 
selves, they find employments for their leisure which are quite out 
of the ordinary, and very entertaining. Their quaint sayings and 
quaint experiences are such as cannot fail to interest young readers, 
and from the first page to the last there is not one that is dull and 
unworthy of attention. The story is amply illustrated, almost 
every page having border illustrations.” — Zioiis Advocate, 


By AMY LE F E U V R E. 


QN THE EDGE OF THE 

MOOR 

Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, $i.oo. 

“A delightful story of a quiet country life, of one who was 
eager to do good to her fellow-beings, and who improved every op- 
portunity to do so. Especially may those whose home is in the 
quiet country, and who think that there ts no opportunities for doing 
good to be found there, find hints of ways in which much good may 
be done. The lives into which the least sunshine comes — these 
are the ones which need our help the most.” — Christian Herald, 

” This is another of those charming and healthy stories for 
young people for which this author has become distinguished. It 
IS a good book for the home or the Sunday-school library,” — Zior^s 
Herald. 


DWELL DEEP 

Illustrated, i6mo, cloth, 75c. 

“ A Story of a girl who, being left without a home, went to live 
with her guardian, who had a number of children. Hilda Thom 
was trying to be a Christian, and her associates were very worldly, 
which made it hard for her. It is an interesting story, with 
the reality of experience.” — The Religious Herald. 

“An intensely interesting story. The author plainly illustrates 
the possibility of magnifying Christian life and character amid the 
whirl of gayety and pleasure in social life. Character speaks with 
effectiveness, and the world bows in acknowledgment to practical 
Christianity in a positive religious character. The author evidently 
has succeeded in making her characters seem to be real and pos- 
sible.” — Christian Intelligencer. 


HIS BIG OPPORTUNITY 

Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, 75c. 

“Aside from its lively interest, this story will be good for boys 
to read. It does not preach, but its influence is strong for the 
right, and it leaves a smack of hearty encouragement in the youth- 
ful mind.” — The Independent. 

“ Here is a capital little story for boys, for girls, or for grown 
people. Of course, it is a story with a moral, and the moral is al- 
ways obvious ; but it does not interrupt the story, which is good.” 

— Church Standard. 

The story is a very pretty one, and nice to give little children 
or to put in a Sunday-school library. The sentiment is not mawk- 
ish nor the religious element overdone. 


By AMT LE FEUVRB: 


pUNNY’S FRIENDS 

i2mo, decorated boards, 30c. 

“ Bunny is a little girl, and her friends are a rabbit, a pony 
and a lark. Each one narrates his experiences to the child as she 
is alone with him in the open room. Children will listen eagerly to 
the reading of these little tales, and will doubtless be profited by 
them.” — N. V. Observer, 

“ ‘Bunny’ herself was not a rabbit, as one might suspect. She 
was a little lonely girl, and her name was Dora. She had a little, 
dark, silky head, and big, blue eyes, which were always staring out 
at the world with big thoughts behind them, and she was still only 
when some one told her a story.” — Western Christian Advocate, 


GOOD NEWS 

Illustrated, i2mo, decorated boards, 30c. 

“ Eric Wallace is an invalid lad, delicate, sweet and winsome, 
who by precept and example leads erring and scoffing men to faith 
in Christ. The good work is done in a natural and perfectly childish 
way, without any painful exhibitions of precocity or goodishness. 
The story is simply a glimpse here and there into the life of a pure 
hearted, sweet natured, happy soul who leads others into the light 
because he is in the light himself. It is a tender and beautiful story 
of Christian influence, conduct and example.” — Christian Work, 


THE WIND DID 

i2mo, decorated boards, 30c. 

‘‘Miss Le Feuvre’s stories about child life are charmingly 
well written and suggestive.” — Christian Advocate, 

‘‘ Her stories are as bright and interesting and touching as if 
Juliana Ewing or Laura Richards had written them.” — Evangelist. 

“A clever tale, written with a high purpose. ... A suc- 
cessful endeavor of one whose pen has found its highest employ- 
ment in the realistic sketching of child —Christian Advocate, 


pULBS AND BLOSSOMS 

An Easter Booklet. With illustrations by 
Eveline Lance, i2mo, cloth, 50c. 

‘‘ Many sweet lessons of faith and love drop from the lips of 
these little ones, and how they brought forth fruit in the heart of 
one of the aunts is impressively brought out. The book is daintily 
bound, and pretty illustrations brighten iC'*— Louisville Observer, 
” An engaging Easter story in relation to two children who 
are sent from India to their aunt in England to acquire strength 
and vigor from a cool climate and other benefits from association 
with English people.” — Christian Intelligencer, 




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